Search Results

So, EV13 it is. No denying, I am a tad apprehensive about this decision; as it seems likely I won't meet many cyclists, it isn't well signposted, is challenging in terms of climbs (although that also means cool descents) and at times, quite lonely I imagine. But, it does look amazing and given that it is autumn, the colours of the trees should be wonderful and I do love that kind of thing. However, the main issue is the weather forcast for the next couple of days. Torrential rain, followed by rain and with some thunder along with.... downpours. The depressing small town of Dragoman is hardly the place one would want to be holed up in for any lenght of time, so I decide to leave my bike and stuff at the hotel and take the train into Sofia for the weekend and wait for the weather front to pass. The train into Sofia is rather lovely, with wooden compartments, upholsterd interiors, sliding doors and train guards both on the trains themselves and at all stations that wear striking purple peaked caps. The schedule wasn't too frequent and as I arrived for the last train for about 2 and a half hours, I found out that they dont take cards and I didn't have any lev. I just hopped on board and hoped for the best, I did have a €20 euro note, so hopefully that would go. Which it did, but the guards were not very happy with me as they rummaged around for the correct change. Joy of joys when I arrived, Sofia has trams. I love trams and hopped on the first one I saw that was going into the centre of town. I hadn't worked out how to buy any tickets and didn't yet have any cash, so hoped that this would not be the time for a ticket inspector. I alighted at an impressive building with a majestic couple of bronze lions outside, which turned out to be the Sofia Court House. Whilst it had been very overcast, it was at that moment that the heavens opened with a shattering clack, followed by thunderous rumbles. It was truly biblical and I took refuge in the nearest restaurant I saw, which turned out to be a burger place. Looked like I was going to be there for the duration, so I ordere a burger and worked out a place to stay for the evening. Once the deluge was over, I went over to check in and promptly set out again for a walking tour of the key sights with one of the many 'Free Walking Tours' that meet up outside the Court House. It was a pretty huge group, maybe on account of the fact it was a Saturday evening and noone had been able to make the earlier tours due to weather. We checked out the main sites including Saint Nedelya Church and heard all about the terrorist attack of 1925 that resulted in over 150 deaths. Cunningly, the Communists had planned the attack meticulously by specifically killing an important general a few days before so that his funeral service at the church would result in all of the military top brass being present in one place at one time, so they could be removed in one go so to speak. I was intrigued by the monumental 24 metre high bronze statue of St Sofia. It was installed in 2000 to replace one of Lenin which ovelooked all of the government buildings at Batemberg square. Whilst she holds an owl in her left hand respresenting wisdom, a laurel wreath in her right to represent fame and wearing a crown to represent power, the main thing I noticed was her huge cleavage. It looked totally out of place and faintly ridiculous; I wonder what they did with the old statue of Lenin. It was interesting to hear about the

Fantastic day of cycling. I arranged to meet Barth on the way out of town to make it over to the Bulgarian border just after Dimitrovrad. If I were to continue on to EV13, I would leave him at Dragoman where he would continue on to Sofia whilst I basically turned right to follow around Bulgaria rather than go through it. I was still undecided if I would just continue on EV6, the tried and tested option, or take the EV13 which was less popular. I was going to see how the day panned out. Either way, it was nice to cycle with Barth and the weather was sunny and clear, certainly until later that afternoon when rain was forecast. Knjazevac is at the confluence of two tributaries to the Danube and there was quite an active nightlife around them the night before and was an agreable route to take out of town. The route to Pirot was just perfect, hilly with amazing views over the Stara planina mountain range and it was around about here I made the decision to take the Iron Curtain route. The scenery was spectacular and the EV13 promised much more of the same, even if it were much hillier and remote, which in itself made it more of a challenge. We stopped for lunch at Pirot and cracked onto Dimitrovgrad where we had heard it may be better to take a train over the border as the route was unpleasant and dangerous. It didn't look so bad on the map and we had both got used to the huge trucks roaring past us. In fact, the road looked like quite a good surface and anyway, when we arrived at the train station, there were no trains so that made our decision easy. I pumped up the beat on my speaker with good old hard house and set off. It wasn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination, the brand new road surrounded by the bleak landscape of recent excavation. In the far distance we could hear the sounds of huge dogs barking and snarling, and even saw some ugly looking specimens who would have loved a piece of us, but were safely behind gates. Always nice to cross a border into a new country and there were lots of smiling people waving at us from their cars. One guy even rolled down his window and gave us some candy. We both looked so out of place in our fully laden bikes and lycra, I guess. At this point, I left Barth who continued on for another 45KM to Sofia whilst I checked into the only hotel in town, which was a welcome relief. The hotel was deserted and had an empty pool complex, although the view across to the Balkan Mountains was pleasant enough in the atmospheric evening light. Being so close to the border, with all of the traffic thundering on down the A6 to Sofia, the whole place felt a bit surreal. It had been a long hard day of cycling, the weather was turning rather nasty looking and Dragoman looked pretty ugly in that light. I was knackered, but the room was nice, the restaurant open and the beer cold.

Sad to leave Negotin, such a lovely place, managed by Malisha. I am still undecided about taking the EV13 through Macedonia and Bulgaria with its huge mountain ranges, although it does look spectacular. Its not so much the climing and descents, it is just the lack of support in case something goes wrong with the bike. I check in to confirm that Turkey is still a red country as far as Covid is concerned, but I have a month or so for things to change. The whole Covid pandemic really seems so remote and far away from me right now, and I realise that I have really disconnected from my normal, everyday life and that is amazing. I have decided to push on through to Knjazevac via Zajecar in one go, around 100KM and my suspicions that it would be preferable to take route 35 from Zajecar rather than the more scenic and unpaved route were confirmed by Bart. The line between joy and despair is always paved, I have come to find. On my exit from the town, I spied Snow White and the Seven Dwarves in a garden. In fact, most of the gardens had various gnomes and colourful fun statues. It was a lot more climby on the way to Zajecar and not a lot to look at. I whiled away a couple of hours listening to episodes of Ladies who London with Alex and Emily, learning all about the sumptuary laws at the Tudor court and the rather over-the-top Kimpton Fitzroy Hotel (formerly Hotel Russell) in London with its fabulously ornate Pyrenean marble staircase and interiors that replicated those on board the Titanic, back in the day. I came across more huge dogs, but these were all kept behind closed gates, presumably for security. As I passed one house, an enormous roar and the swhoosh of metallic buzzing slammed across a huge courtyard and as I turned back to look, a dog as big as a horse was straining against its leash, attached to a zipline. I don't see any potential thief walking out of there alive, to be honest. The route here was both monotonuous and devoid of any places to buy food, which luckily I had been warned about so I brought some sandwiches and my newest favourite snake, almonds. They are super good for you and it can be hard to find nutritions food. I think I may have already mentioned it elsewhere in this blog, but this journey is all about food, making sure you eat healthily as you go. Every meal you have, you think back to what you have previously eaten for at least two meals. Whilst it is not the main topic of thought, it is always uppermost in your mind. The road quality here was not great - just imagine how bad the scenic route would have been - and after a particularly rough patch, my chain came off. Unfortuntaly it got all mangled up and took me half an hour to set it right. I did wonder what I would do right out there on my own if I couldn't fix it, but it was only a chain, but it was great once I finally got it back on and working. An old guy watched me from his porch a short distance away as I wrestled with it. Hands covered in oil and grease, I stopped off at a local service station when I got to Zajecar and stocked up on water and apples. The continuing 40KM route to Knjazevac was a doddle. Straint,easy and now paved although tons of roadworks and red lights which I sailed through. Nothing to see here at all, just boring but at least it was easy. Things improved scenically when an offical looking guy in a car directed me to an alternative paved path away from the main road. Turned out he was border control and I saw him a couple of times as I made my way, he always blinked his lights at me in recognition. A nice moment of connection and heightend my good mood. The town seemed lovely and after I settled into my hotel, I called Bart who was nearby and we met up for a bite to eat. We were both quite knackered and went our seperate ways straight after, arranging to meet up to cycle together onto Bulgaria the next day. He definitely doesn't want to do the EV13 hilly route; he has a lot more stuff with him for a start but then again he is going onto Iran as well and it will be colder when he is there. And cycling in lycra is not really on in a place like that anyway. Made some videos for the schoolkids and passed out. So so tired.

Well, today is going to be one of the most memorable of the trip. It should have been fine, I mean I had a bike in top working order and stayed at a hotel which was as clean and comfortable as it was sterile and uninviting, although I just didn't sleep well for some reason. Breakfast was in a cavernous dining area with a couple of Romania business execs to fill the void. The staff were surly and couldn't wait to get off their shift. To give it credit, the place is probably more pumping at weekends or during the summer. I was looking forward to getting to Romania, which I think is the 9th country of my trip. I knew nothing about the place other than the capital was Bucharest and had no expectations, which is always a fun way to be. The route out of the town involved passing the Water Castle, the emblem of the city and a main crossroads all in one. The navigation to leave the city was spectacularly inaccurate and kept leading me into a dead end car park of yet another grim looking block. At lease I provided amusement for a smiley couple of ladies who kept laughing and pointing at the dead end and then saying something, perhaps trying to give me directions. In the end, I just gave up on the sat nav and aimed for the river and that really kick started my day out of anything approaching comfortable lethargy. The main expressway out of town was route 6 and the truck drivers there could clearly not give a toss about cyclists. Even though I weaved a bit to left and right, they just ploughed on past giving me what felt like a few centimetres leeway. Huge, towering dirty beasts, one after another after another, endlessly sucking me into their slipstream. Honking at full blast, as if I wasn't aware of their presence in the first place. Just as my nerves of steel were frayed to the core, along came the dogs. When I say dogs, the only passing resemblance to these powerful, terrifying, snarling, satanic monsters from Hell was, perhaps, the presence of a tail. They were huge, and I mean huge. Huge and unchained, they leapt at me baring their teeth, showing the pink of their gums and making the most unholy of guttural sounds that came deep from within. The loathsome sound was drowned out to a large extent by horns of the massive trucks that passed on the other side. These animals just didn't give a shit about the dangers of roaring into oncoming traffic, and I even got the sense that they would be just as happy to pick up a truck in their mouths and shake that fucker until it came to pieces. Just horrible. And then it got worse. At least on main roads, there was other traffic that you felt would somehow protect you from these beasts but as you went into some of the quieter roads, you really were their only entertainment for the day. I followed the Danube, but on my right, every house seemed to have one laying in the driveway and no gates were closed. With luck, they only noticed after you had passed, but on a couple of occasions they took notice ahead of you and came roaring down at you with those foaming pink gums and sharp bared teeth. In one lawless looking village in particular, all the male dogs appeared to be brutalising some poor bitch, but she was certainly relieved when they saw me and a bloody pack of them started howling and chasing me. At another village, the I could see that the route took me past a pack of snoozing dogs, who looked smaller than the other monsters but it was still a horrible moment when I decided I had to take the plunge and just drive through them. I learnt that if I shout as loudly as possible and threw stones as I went, they sometimes backed away but still, the sight of them sitting in driveways just pumped my heartrate to dangerous levels. I thought back to the guy in the campsite at Donji Milanovac with his fortress of equipment that he had come prepared with and wished I had paid more attention. I also thought back to the super cute pair of dogs at my dinner table in the same town and tried to fathom how these animals came from the same genus as they. I did pick up some large pointy stones, put a few in my saddle bag and kept others in my hands. I gripped them so tightly that I actually pierced the skin of one hand and I spent the next 25KM pedalling furiously on pure, naked adreneline. I cannot remember a time when I have ever felt so vulnerable and bloody terrified, quite frankly. My nerves settled slightly the further I went into the countryside and the roads were passable. Not a great deal to see, although there were several groups of locals driving their horse and cart and grubby weather-beaten old ladies pushing wheelbarrows up and down fields. It didn't feel like a very prosperous country and the overall impression was of a hard life, although this was only based on about an hour of cycling until I found the closest passport control to get the hell out of the place and back into Serbia just as soon as I could. The guy at the desk was smiley and welcoming, much needed after my nightmare of a morning. I trundled on with much relief to the lovely town on Negotin. I wasn't too sure what to do, whether to push on and maybe catch up with the others. The Campsite for Urban Adventurers was very higly recommended by many and as I stood outside deliberating what to do, the owner Malisha came out to meet me and said I was welcome to come inside, use the WiFi and offered me a coffee whilst I cleared my head. The place was astounding and there was availability, so the choice was easy. Time to be good to myself and I ended up in the most amazing room with a gorgeous balcony, super comfy seats overlooking lush green plants and vegetation beneath. The closest thing to Mrs Madrigals house at 28 Barbary Lane in the Tales of the City that I could imagine. There was even a free washing machine, although I decided to use a full hot wash which took ages and I don't think was particularly eco and irked some of the other residents below. But boy, was all my stuff clean at the end of it. I went out and bought a load of pizza, a couple of cold beers and hoofed it back to my little oasis of calm. In fact, it was so lovely I tried to book another day, but sadly it was already taken. I made contact with Iraj and Ernst who had really covered some KMs and realised that it was unlikely I would ever catch them up. I wasn't in such a rush wheras they wanted to make it to Iran as quickly as possible. I wandered around the town at night which had loads of squares and restaurants and had such a great vibe. What an extraordinary day of contrasts and boy did I sleep soundly after the exertions of the morning.

Slept super well in this lovely little hostel. Although there were shared dormitories, I stayed in one of the individual small cabins centred around a courtyard which gave it a homely feel. The owners' were super friendly. Iraj and Ernst had stayed at s further up the hill and just before the entrance to the main town, but they came down to join Bart and myself for breakfast. The general vibe was that they wanted to make up a bit of time on route today, but I wasn't so keen for that; it was such a spectacular route yesterday and today promised more of the same and I was in no rush. No problemo, they shot off and I guessed that we would meet up again at some point. Or maybe not - it was all good. I stopped off at a local supermarket for some supplies, not as easy to find healthy food as I would have liked, and then off. Another spectacular, jaw dropping morning drinking in the stunning views over the Iron Gates Gorge, the name given to this stretch of the Danube. I had gotten used to the tunnels although the longest one was yet to come. The main thing to do was ensure you had all your lights on and just blast through as fast as you can, and hope no large trucks decide to follow you in. Not so much an issue in the shorter tunnels, but the longer, curving ones were a challenge. I was conscious of the possibility of hitting a pothole or other obstruction which you couldn't make out as the tunnels were pitch black inside. It felt great as you powered your way towards the light at the far end, with a sense of relief and undeniable exhilaration each and every time you made it out in one piece. I kept my eye open for the colossal sculpture of Decebalus which had been carved into the rockface on the Romanian side and given that it is the tallest rock sculpture in Europe at 55m high, it wasn't hard to spot. Decebalus was the last king of Dacia, the ancient pre-Roman name for what was to become Romania, and I had heard about him from my knowledge of Trajan's Column, a 100ft tall triumphal column in Rome that commemorates the emperor Trajan's victory in the Dacian Wars of 100 - 106AD. Decebalus had fought a couple of noble fights against his invading Roman Army but he was ultimately defeated and killed. Completed in 2004, Decebalus was obviously still regarded pretty highly given that the sculpture took 10 years and twelve sculptors to finish it. I even stopped to make a short video for Michal and his school kids about it. Lunch was at a cracking fish restaurant aptly called Panorama. At the table next to me were a group of ladies of a certain age who were clearly close friends and enjoying an uproariously loud and funny lunch. Whilst I couldn't understand their conversation, I suspect tight black lycra cycling shorts on a pair of male legs figured in their discourse. In the distance I spied a couple of cycle tourists with the tell tale Ortlieb bags that seemingly every cycle tourist has. A couple of beers later and I was ready to cross the Romania border and on into the town of Drobeta-Turin Severin. The roads were not great this side of the river and it just felt different; the endless electricity pylons and barbed wire was in great contrast to the gorgeous gorges from earlier on in the day. I found a bar and sat down to sort out accommodation for the night. I found out that my credit card had been blocked, even though I had told the bank that there was no fraudulent activity on it even if it looked as though there was. Fortunately I had several back up cards to use. I found a hotel which looked OK, although getting there was not particularly pleasant. The roads felt depressing and I suddenly felt vulnerable as I cycled down some rather utilitarian , ugly looking streets and people kept staring at me. On top of that, I realise that my bike had developed some serious mechanical issues, making rather unhealthy sounds. I found out a cycle shop La Pedale Drobeta and had about 15 minutes to make it over there before it shut at 7.00PM. I made it by the skin of my teeth and I had to get a new wheel and whilst I was about it, a mirror which was going to be useful especially with the large trucks and heavy traffic that I had been encountering. The guys in the bike shop were the absolute best, incredibly helpful and funny. One of them spoke excellent English and had worked overseas in some volunteer capacity. A couple of their neighbours came over to meet the tall English man who had cycled all the way from London and we did a couple of pics. Love that feeling of achievement, it has to be said. They offered for me to stay with their friends, but I already had my stuff checked into the hotel, but as ever, the welcome was superb. £60 later, which was considerably cheap for materials and work I thought, I cycled the short distance back to the hotel. The room was large and comfortable, but the hotel was geared towards business trips and had a strange feel to it. Don't get me wrong, the place was nice with a very interesting pool that weaved its way around a central courtyard. It was vast, white and had a sterile feel to it, although the pool did have a big disco glitter ball over it, so there was some hope. I was about the only person there and I kept thinking of The Shining. No denying, I was pretty frazzled by the whole day and slept the sleep of the Gods that night. Fab.

Some days, things just take your breath away and this is one of those days. Room was comfortable enough, not the best I have ever stayed in but OK. I got up early to give the bike a bit of a clean & then enjoyed one of the biggest breakfasts ever, including 6 fried eggs. I've said it before, but it is so great that you can eat whatever you like when on a cycle trip across Europe. My journey required a short trip across the Danube to the settlement of Ram first thing, although still staying Serbia side. The ferries were few and far between, and I didn't want to miss the early 8.30 one. Handily my accommodation was right next to the ferry port, so I met up with Bart and we set off. The sun was shining and we met another couple of cycle tourists, Iraj who was Iranian but lived in Oxford and was cycling to Tehran for a local mental health charity Oxfordshire Mind and Ernst, a fairly recently retired Swiss biology professor from ETH in Zurich. We all looked pretty cool as we got aboard the ferry with pretty much exactly the same panniers in the same colour even, like a professional team. The atmosphere was just amazing, quite hyper and the views just wonderful. As we made our way towards Ram with its fortress high on a hill, I decided that I would like to enjoy some alone time so let everyone get off first and felt sure we would all meet up again during the day. That's just how it goes. I made a short video for the Czech students about the Ram fortress and off I went. Wow, what a journey via Zatonji to Beli Bagrem. Smooth roads, the Danube vast and huge on my left-hand side, opera arias on full blast. God it was stunning. I stopped by a small town to pick up some money, have a coffee and met up once again with Iraj and Ernst. Iraj, it turns out, was on more of a mission to get to his destination and was so full of energy. Ernst was such a nice guy too and it turns out they had met a week or so earlier and just hung out together. Great coffee and some kind of roll thing, and then off I set in the sunshine once again. My journey took me on yet more superb roads to the magical seemingly floating Golubac castle marking the entrance of the Iron Gorges. Deep forested slopes dropping to the river, at 87m in depth the deepest river in the world. The gorges high as 500m. I made a video going through a tunnel. The road hugged the mountains with a total of 17 tunnels to pass through. Some traffic, including huge trucks but all of it manageable. I put the lights on my bike as some of the tunnels were about 250m in length, curved and pitch black. Had to pedal like the devil to get through in case a truck came. Exciting. Then a steep climb for 2KM, then swooping down to my campsite for the night in the delightful small town of Donji Milanovic. The view were beyond extraordinary and I didn't really take too many pics as there is no point. You really had to be there. It did get rather knackering as I ran out of water, although the majority of the route was in shadow on the road although brilliantly illuminated on the hillside opposite. The next stop was the town of Donji Milanovac, which I think will be my last town in Serbia. It has a lovely feel to it, relaxed and bathed in a sunny evening glow. Turns out that it is a major filming location for Serbian movies, and has even been referred to as the Serbian Hollywood, and I can see why. In reference to its prehistoric origins with the important settlement Lepenski Vir nearby and the fact that there remains of a woolly mammoth had been discovered in an archaeological dig a few years ago, there was a big sculpture on the banks of he Danube, which served as the unofficial mascot of the town. Found the hostel, which has individual wooden cabins. Bart was already when I arrived. Had a shower, washed my shorts and off to eat as I had not eaten all day. My card was blocked so I rang them up, which is going to be super expensive. So happy, especially with my current travelling companions. Wow, this really is the trip of a lifetime. Feeling amped as can be. Serbia really is the greatest country, amazing people, stunning scenery and fab roads. Food is OK, had the biggest ever hamburger with no bread for dinner. Cute dogs at the foot of my table. I met a Serbian guy at the campsite who was on an electric bike and had high pitched dog whistles and fireworks with him, explaining that up in the mountains the dogs could be pretty vicious. I thought he was probably over exaggerating; how wrong can you be….

Early morning start and happy to leave the hostel. It was OK, but of all the types of accommodation out there, I think hostels are not for me; I like my own space and a bit of privacy. Not that this hostel was bad and the people staying there were lovely, but just not for me. I found the path out of Belgrade easily and crossed over the Pancevo bridge which looked rather striking in the bright early morning sunshine. There was a small boat with a couple of fishermen in it lying lazily back with their lines glinting in the sun. The path followed an unsurfaced dyke and I thought of Michael and his unending quest to avoid bad roads. As I cycled along, with a bunch of dead tree trunks floating on my right which lent the Danube a somewhat strange, ethereal air. The surface wasn’t too awful but I still worried a bit about my bike, enough to get off the track at the first opportunity before the industrial town of Pancevo. I was hungry as I hadn't had time to eat anything beforehand; it had been too early. Luckily shops were open on Sundays and I soon came across a queue outside a bakery and got a huge hunk of Borek with meat and another scone thing, which I wolfed down at a nearby cafe which was closed but the tables were outside anyway. Felt much better, as always thinking about the fact it was OK to eat that kind of unhealthy stuff as I had eaten healthily the night before. I had my mobile data turned off so couldn't contact Bart, but I had stopped feeling too worked up about that after some time in the saddle. Riding does that to you, makes life easier as you go. The weather was super sunny and I felt good, I had already booked my accommodation and before I knew it, I was passing through a small village just short of Omoljica where I stopped for a coffee and some WiFi. Feeling very local, I hummed and haad about taking the unsurfaced route which would be prettier or the surfaced road. I no longer worry about trucks and anyway, it was a Sunday so figured there would be less traffic. I decided on the surfaced option to Kovin and then think about the unsurfaced option to my hotel room which I had booked at Stara Palanka. Route was a bit samey, lots of corn fields and nothing of note to look at, but the bike and I appreciated it. Got to the outskirts of Kovin which seemed pretty desolate with just a couple of trucker stops. I got a coke, logged on and left a message to Bart saying I had taken the surfaced route and by that point, I had also decided to continue on surfaced all the way to at least Dubovac where, after having read Lauren's blog, I thought I would take the unsurfaced dyke. It was touch and go in fact, difficult as always for me to make up my mind. So, more of the same until Dubovac where I had to log in and got messages from Bart who said he had taken the dyke and he regretted it as he was knackered by it all. What was crucial was that yes, the views may be better but you don't look at them as you are always focussing on the path ahead so you can avoid potholes. So happy I had taken the boring route. Once I got to Dubovac, I went onto dyke but then straight back to main road and onto Stara Palanka (after getting a bit lost at the village before. Got my room, which was pretty good for 10€, had a lovely lady owner and nice barman. Place smelt of dog and there was a smelly, pregnant one lying at base of the steps. But room had a/c and a bathroom, so all good. Lady was keen to point out that it had a TV. I told Bart as they had a spare room for him and sunk a couple of beers straight away. Drunk man at bar kept giving me kisses and to Bart when he arrived. Waited for Bart and was happy to see him. We both showered, had a beer and then a meat feast dinner in a lovely riverside restaurant. The ferry leaves at 8.30AM tomorrow to cross over for the next day and they only go every two hours, so need to be ready. My bike chain is making odd noises, so need to give it a clean as well, I think. Email from Michal to say he was happy with the video for school and he shows the route to around 150 kids every day as part of his geography class. Made me feel good.

Today was a well earned rest day and Belgrade felt like the perfect place to take it. The city had a great feel to it, the weather was superb and it was so good to be out of lycra. After a cracking breakfast of ham and eggs, which has become my go to breakfast choice whenever available, I set off to take in the sights. All I knew about the place was coloured by news reports of demonstrations against Slobodan Milošević in the early 1990s and bombings as part of the Kosovo War and didn't know what to expect. I headed first up to the Kalemegdan Fortress, standing high above the confluence of the Sava and the Danube rivers... ...with its towering Victor monument built to commemorate Serbia's triumph over both Ottoman and Austro-Hungarian Empire. Steeped in history and dating back to the 2nd Century, it is a defining feature of the city and has witnessed a turbulent and tumultuous time of it. Got chatting with some Slovenian visitors who couldn't believe I had cycled from London; always makes me feel great that. Next stop was the House of the National Assembly where I the first of my short videos to pupils at Michal's school in the Czech Republic. This was the first of many such vids as I continued my travels onto Istanbul. and close by, the National Theatre. There were a lot of barriers in place in front of the Parliament Building and some cameras being set up, and it turns out to be a large environmental protest rally that was taking place later that afternoon. Totally loving the trams that navigate their way around the city, always having to keep an eye out so my tyres don't get struck in the tracks. For some reason, I often found myself cycling through Sava Square with it's brand spanking new huge statue of Stefan Nemanja, the legendary founder of the Serbian state. It had only been installed a few months earlier and was a point of much controversy nicknamed 'Saruman on a Kinder Egg' by some. It was absolutely enormous, around 75 ft high and impossible to ignore and reminded me of those Soviet style mega monuments you often see, and was set to become a new defining statue of Belgrade. I got a message from Michael to say he was also in Belgrade and staying in Skadarlija, which turns out to be the hip area of town. I headed over and we hung out for a few hours drinking beers and eating two main meals. Definitely a cool vibe and better place to stay than my hostel, but that was fine. I was leaving tomorrow and happy with my choice. I planned my route out for the next day and even booked ahead with accommodation and took one final whizz around the local area, including the rather fab St Marks' Church in Tašmajdan park.

Woke up feeling powerful. Brilliant night sleep, a super sunny morning although the breakfast could have been a bit more substantial. Had a lovely chat with Blaise and Mila and promised to spread the word about the awesome Garni Hotel 11tica. Today was going to be 90K to Belgrade and looking forward to a day or two off whilst there. On the way out, I dropped by the restaurant to pick up my fleece and set off over the newly constructed Varadin Bridge, the previous one having been blown up the year before during the Kosovo war. Again I think about lucky I am not to have experienced such hardships and political environment that resulted in such wars. As I neared the end of the bridge, I saw a very smiley, happy looking guy with a very impressive set of front and rear panniers, exactly the same set up as mine - even the same colour. His looked a lot fuller than mine though. He was a French guy called Bart and exuded positive energy. Turns out this was his second such trip, the first one was around Albania and this time he was planning to make it to Iran. We cycled and chatted a bit and he told me about a great app called EuroCycle and how he was a firm believer in Warmshowers which he used for lodging and also meeting locals. I had heard about this, but just never tried it out. I was pretty sure I would bump into him again and I shot off at full pelt. Wow, the day was just so brilliant and once again, I found myself shouting out and singing loud to noone in particular as I flew past small village after small village. The ride had involved a pretty tough 4km climb, but I was feeling strong and ready for it. There was noone around to hear me and I whooped and hollered with unconstrained joy. God, it was good to be alive. I took some short videos of the places I passed and eventually I decided to stop off for a lunchtime beer at the small village of Novi Slankamen. The owner of the bar was a huge bodybuilder of a guy and as with everyone else I had met in Serbia thus far, a super friendly guy. I only intended to have a cheeky half but one of the locals insisted I try some of the local schnapps. Bloody strong, but I boshed it nonetheless and truth be told, felt fairly pissed. And off I set again, relentless roads that were in pretty good nick, I thought, although much of it was along corn fields which was a bit relentless. Happy to have my speaker and podcasts, interchanging between anything by Simple Minds and a podcast about crypotcurrency scams. Getting very used to the sound of tractors pulling cart loads of produce, which was very often - you guessed it, corn. I was making awesome time in such perfect conditions and decided to stop off at Novi Banovci and got chatting to a very switched on owner who was mad about English soccer. We chatted and the conversation veered towards the war and as always, my job was to listen to his side of it and nod quizzically and in an understanding manner to his comments. I know enough to realise when I am in the midst of something I don't know enough about to make an informed opinion and the war was not something you messed with. Just as I was finishing up my chicken salad sandwich, along came Bart again. I knew it I would, and how lucky I was to have someone to cycle into Belgrade with. Really, one of the most pleasant entries into a city I have ever done. Huge trucks but both Bart and I were expert at these by now and they didn't phase either of us. We whistled along the shores of the Danube, both loving the setting sun, she sound of our wheels turning beneath us and being truly in the moment. Huge smiles on both our faces. I had been recommended a hostel by Alan and Bart was staying at with a warmshowers host, so we decided to stop off, have a beer and then separated at the bottom of the lift at Branko's Bridge. Wow, Belgrade looked awesome, but truth be told I felt a bit uneasy as I couldn't seem to find the hostel and anyway, not sure I was ready to share a dormitory. Then I remembered my time on the Camino and stopped being so fussy. Eventually I found the entrance to the hostel and hoofed my bike up several floors. Truth be told I was a bit nervous about leaving it unlocked to anything immovable, but figured that it was hard enough for me to make it upstairs and that it would be hard enough for someone to pinch it, if they ever found it tucked away as it was. Given I was so late, the only bed left was a top bunk, never ideal. But I showered, changed and went out into the night to sample the delights of Belgrade, which consisted of pretty mediocre food but company in the form of a bar owner from Montenegro and a regular customer who was a trombone player for the Belgrade radio station. Hit the sack at around 4.00AM, full and tired.

Top night in Bačka Palanka. Such a friendly place, great atmosphere and feel to it. The hotel too was so welcoming with a bottomless breakfast. Pretty sure the guys who set the budgets for these places did not plan for cycle tourists descending upon their fare like a one man locust plague. Today was going to be a short one, only 40KM to Novi Sad which is the second largest city in Serbia. Even the exit from Bačka Palanka was wonderful with a sunny morning along tree lined streets. As I was looking at my map, a taxi driver with customer stopped to ask if I needed any help and later on down the street, he had stopped and waited to make sure I had understood and then went onto give me even more precise directions. Traffic was OK although the roads were peppered with dead dogs that had not made the crossing, I did not want to fall into the same trap. I continued along the main route and briefly considered the other option of an unsurfaced dyke which would probably have been prettier. However the traffic was not heavy and the trucks, like the people, were friendly and gave me plenty of room when they did occasionally appear. To be honest, I was ready for a day or two off in a big city and that was my main focus. As I rode along, there was a rather strange looking object in a field, consisting of a wooden pole with another wooden horizontal element which had a bucket at one end and a wheel complete with tyre balancing it out on the other. I have absolutely no idea what this is for, maybe a piece of art? I would love to find out. The entry into the city included passing either a club or a gym, but either way it had a cool feature of a helicopter stuck on the side. Novi Sad has recently been awarded the European Youth Capital, so figured it could be both. The sun was on full blast as I eventually located my hotel down some side streets with the most fabulous receptionist ever called Blaise. She reminded me of my friend Ingrid back home, bursting with energy and a killer smile. Unloaded my stuff straight away and hit the town for a chilled lunch of a very healthy salad and beer before wandering around. So many pretty buildings, streets lined with restaurants and I just loved this place. I was a bit knackered and it was hot, so I headed back to the hotel for a nap, what a luxury. However I did get up later on to catch the sun setting over the city and hung around old city and drank coffee. The place was packed with students and truth be told, I felt a bit lonely and could have done with some company. So I headed off to an Irish bar and that did the trick. No actual Irish people but everyone could speak English and I downed a few beers. I would probably live to regret it the next morning and although it wasn't exactly immersion in the local culture, I did have a fun evening. I did leave behind my fleece top though. Ooops.

The family in the tent next to me were up earlier than I and made a racket doing so. They were super friendly and clattered off with a cheery 'have a good journey' in English and big smiles all round. I was still off in good time and dropped by the wine shop reception to pay on my way out. I didn't realise that Croatia didn't take euros until I was in the shop yesterday, but as usual, everywhere took cards so no problem and I reckoned that as I would be leaving in Serbia by the end of the day, I could probably manage my whole time without touching an actual kuna. Starving, I stopped off for something to eat at a café / bar in Kneževi Vinogradi. It seemed the entire village was in there drinking coffee but, as I soon found out, not eating any food. There wasn't any at that time in the morning, at least nothing substantial enough for what was required. The owner suggested I nip next door to the bakery for a hearty sandwich and she would supply the much needed coffee. Unfortunately the bakery only accepted cash and then when I explained I hadn't got any, she simply offered me the food. No questions, no discussion, just a big smile and said you are welcome. Wow, I don't see that happening down the Portobello Road. There was an ATM opposite, so I took out a couple of hundred Kuna and went to pay her, but the thought was there. Things like that can really put a smile on your face and along with the convivial, welcoming vibe from all the locals who kept turning to look at me and wish me luck amongst and in particular, one older guy who turned to me as he was leaving, rapped the table with his fist and said 'Well done' I realised how much I had missed the hum of this everyday conversation, but at the same time I didn't feel lonely. Just happy to be part of a communal gathering, in the moment as they say in all good Mindfulness books. Then off I headed, next stop Osijek on the banks of the Drava. The route consisted of monotonous views, vineyards, fields and non descript villages interspersed with the odd pleasant enough church such as this one in the hamlet of Lug. Apparently I was cycling through a huge nature park, the largest wetlands in Europe even, although I saw no sign of that. Roads smooth and still no Danube views but it didn't matter. I was getting into war zone territory from the Yugoslav civil war of '91 - '95 and this place had its fair share of shelling by the Serbs and there were lots of roadside memorials amongst the vineyards and flat fields. I got a bit lost and a tad frustrated at getting out of the city, and some guy took a picture of me saying my bags were amazing. I flew along towards Vukovar and at one point there was some protracted road works taking place and had one way traffic. I held everyone up, but no one seemed to mind. Every person I met was kind and considerate, including the drivers of both lorries and cars. Always giving me a wide berth and a thumbs up. I felt so good on the near perfect roads, the perfect weather and just watching the villages and countryside fly by. Nothing really to see and I wanted to make up the KMs so pressed on rather than stop for coffees etc. Vukovar was a stop though, this place took the brunt of 12000 shells per day at the height of the war, mainly because of the large numbers of immigrants built up over a long time which caused tensions to explode when the war came. The entrance on the motorway had a bombed-out building with black fabric in the windows which was kept there in remembrance of the war. On the other hand, some pretty decent street art. I took a picture of the famous water tower which, along with the building I spotted on the way into town, is kept there as a reminder of the recent situation. You can take a tour up inside of it, but I preferred to keep on as I had set myself a bit of ground to cover before I made it to Serbia that evening. I noticed some shrapnel holes on houses on the way in too. Terrifying stuff. I took a picture of the memorial cross with the Danube in the background and it felt good to see her lovely banks again, it's been a while since I saw Mother Danube as I have come to know her. I set off on the final stretch to Bačka Palanka, a town just in on the Serbian border. The evening light was extraordinary, with that orange hue that made everything look so beautiful and perfect at I whistled through a series of villages - Sotin, Opatovac, Mohovo & Sarngrad. Each village meant a steep descent and ascent again and this has been the most strenuous part of the trip since France or getting up to Donaueschingen. I was a bit conscious of the time and not having any accommodation sorted, but confident enough I would find something as long as I made it to Bačka Palanka and anyway, I had the tent which is always the best back up plan ever. The villages looked nice though, with paprikas drying in the sun and locals all in a bar at another. I saw a couple of other bike tourists huddled over a book, presumably wondering if they should find accommodation there or push on. I am glad I pushed on as I went through customs at both ends and even got my passport stamped in Serbia. It didn't take too long to find a lovely hotel with breakfast and have now adopted my new approach of throw everything on the floor asap to get dry, shower and get out. I know every item I own, down to the smallest cable, so no problems packing in the morning. The town was buzzing and the bars on the main street downstairs were heaving. As usual I was hungry and stopped off for a full sized pizza. It was so good, I went back to buy another which everyone seemed to find amusing. I don't think they realised how far I had been cycling and I have a big engine to feed. Took a shot of the sun setting at the end of the street; another belter of a day.

Croatia today, around 120K. Had been in two minds about whether I should take a more northerly route, but Camping Suza Baranje in Croatia came highly recommended by both monteandkemodo and Lauren Pears, so seems like a pretty good option. Weather was absolutely perfect, sun shining and I had a huge breakfast of ham and eggs at Mediterran Cafe overlooking the main square with the Holy Trinity statue at its centre commemorating a plague during the 1750s. On one one side was the impressive Town Hall, formally Grassalkovich Palace with its ornate Neo-Renaissance detailing and opposite was the Sugovica tributary, whose presence gave Baja a really pleasant vibe. It was fun watching the whole city get ready for the day, although if it were me, I would remove the car parking around the immediate vicinity and make the whole place totally pedestrian. I set off following the EV6 signs but got lost, and I suspected that the signs had been switched around in places in order to confound and confuse. But I did eventually get out of the city with the help of a local guy who pointed me in the right direction; it wasn't the first time he had done that and somehow it made me feel better that I was clearly not the first cycle tourist even if I felt like it. I really haven't seen any other cyclists for days, perhaps it is a Covid thing. It's fine, but at times I could do with the company. However I do have loads of podcasts and music to listen to, my current favourite is anything by Simple Minds and I crank it up to full volume as I whizz down the silky smooth dykes towards Dunafalva where I was hoping to get a ferry across the Danube and head onto Mohács. However there didn't seem to be any running, so I headed off down a country lane to join the 51 and get a ferry further down which would bring me straight into the town. Mohács, I knew from my tour with Auden when in Budapest, was important in the history of Hungary due to the battles of 1526 and 1687 that marked the beginning and end of Ottoman domination in the country. It certainly had a unique Moorish feel to it with its main Town Hall in cream and pink stonework with green domes and in front of it, the Statue of the Three Nationalities. Loving that there are so many colourful buildings, with all faiths represented and living in harmony and the main one that stood out was green domed Votive Church with its colonnades. Also loving the sparkly silver Memorial of the Battle in the main square with an larger than life and rather unhappy looking figure, which I was guessing was King Louis II who got trashed in the first battle. This was to be my last town in Hungary and I had forints to burn. I looked around for some healthy food options, but there were no obvious ones so I bought some huge pizza. As I munched, I noted some elegant women at tables and in the glorious sunshine, it had a very cosmopolitan feel. And then, off again in the direction of Croatia which was only a short 10KM away. Surrounded by endless fields and a rather ominous looking watchtower, It wasn't long until I came upon a very long lines of very stationary trucks. All the drivers looked as though they had been there for hours, which of course they probably had. So pleased I could head straight to the head of the queue and for the first time since leaving the UK, my passport was actually checked albeit fleetingly. And then, there I was - in Croatia!!😊 So pumped for my 8th country and on a mini high as I continued ever on along deserted roads and kilometres of flat countryside stretching on forever; it reminded me of the crop duster scene in North by Northwest at times. I was in an area especially known for its vineyards, fields and quality wines. It was also known as the Amazon of Europe, apparently. The campsite wasn't too far and I was there in no time. There was noone around at all, although there were a couple of RV's that looked as though they were stationed there for some considerable time. I set up my tent and used the excellent facilities, expecting that the owners would turn up at some point. Slung between a couple of trees was a hammock, into which I happily installed myself and alternated between listening to podcast about a guy who posted himself back to the UK from Australia, reading and calling home. Bliss. Also got a message from Michael and it seems he isn't too far from me, so I suspect we will end up meeting again after all. Did a ton of washing as well and then the owner turned up. Turns out he was one of the Kolar family, an entrepreneurial set up centred mainly around their vineyard and winery that produces a variety of wines including the most popular Riesling and Sauvignon Blanc. A lovely guy, he took a glance at my passport and said to pass by the main cellar buildings on my way out tomorrow morning to pay. I cycled down to Suza to pick up some supplies, although the shop wasn't great in that respect. There were a couple or restaurants nearby and I decided to stop by later for dinner, which I did. Can't remember the food, but the wine was good. Very pleased I had great lights as it was pitch black by the time I left and the main road, although fairly traffic free, felt a tad dangerous in the dark. By the time I got back, a large noisy family had moved in very close to my tent, but they were friendly enough. Slept well.