Drizzle in the Balkans.
Two weary cyclists, both in like and dignity, near fair Verona we lay our scene. With the setting of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet not far away combined with a dash of Italian passion lingering in the air, we thought it only right to dip into our slightly more feminine side, by taking the route towards one of the world’s most romantic cities, Venice.
It took us three days as we enjoyed the endless flat roads across the heart of Northern Italy. We took time to sample local markets, although, not being the most fluent in Italian we ended up with some slightly stale bread, which I’m sure mixed with mortar could have held a house up.
Venice was a welcome break from thinking about the bikes, due mainly to the fact that it took the best part of our two brains to try to figure out the endless alleyways and canals, which personally all looked the same. Pleasant as Venice was, the romance felt a little churned out in a Disneyland style theme park, with Italians asking us for directions and more men in striped uniforms than a day out for the locals of Alcatraz. We soon realized just how unlocal the place was when we came to buy some food. Unable to afford the over priced cuisine, we set about to track down a local shop (i.e. where you buy your milk and paper in the morning). For hours we searched like Sherlock Holmes on trail of a key suspect. Eventually we had to leave the city just to find a normal shop from which we brought a few nibbles and beers before dangling our feet over the canal edge and enjoyed Venice on a budget.
We decided to start our on-the-road training for the Marathon in Egypt, doing a quick 30min run before hopping on the bikes in the afternoon to roll a few kilometres out of the city. Over the following days we were blessed with fine weather, which brought warmth to our bones as we headed towards Slovenia.
It was a brief affair in our fourth country only lasting about 24hours, although both of us would have stayed longer. With the border change from Italy came big change, gone were the busy roads and endless houses and fields just green meadows, bringing camping of the highest degree meaning the search for a good spot didn’t mean a long slog. Slovenia also seemed a lot further from home. People started to speak with influences from cyrillic text rather than Latin.
Looking for a little R&R of the resting variety, we headed to the coastline of Croatia for a dip in the Med. We weren’t disappointed finding a 5***** spot right on the water’s edge. A swim which could have been warmer was followed by meat stew and mash potato. The lack of rain meant we could camp without tents for the first time, drifting off whilst gazing across the water at the lights of distant towns reflecting on the calm surface.
A day off in Rijeka and our first bed since leaving the U.K was followed by a pounding along the coastal roads. Strong headwinds picked up leaving us pedalling on the down hill sections, something no cyclist wants!!. With our bikes swerving dangerously across the road and the wind coming from all directions we thought it safer to head inland to explore a bit of the less well trodden parts of Croatia. Hitting the top of a 700m climb the landscape and atmosphere changed. Grey clouds replaced blue skies, trucks were replaced by tractors and houses were left in an unfinished state. We felt like we were now entering the real eastern Europe.
The word “drizzle” was used repeatedly as we worked our way into Bosnia and the scars of this region’s past were evident everywhere. Finding ourselves on a road which ran out to little more than a bridle path, red and white tape was wrapped from tree to tree indicating land mines. We proceeded with caution before eventually finding a sign after about 2hours, which led us to the small town we were searching for.
Our destination was the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo. The four days it took began to blend together, both of us forgetting how many time’s we had put on our wet socks and dipped them into sodden shoes and mist shrouding out any view. The only reminder that we were heading into new lands was the introduction of minarets standing proud in the centre of small towns just visible through the soup like weather. Fortunately, the low price of local food in Bosnia ment we could nip into small restaurants and get a cheap bite to eat rather than buying food to prepare. The mist and rain persisted leaving even the most bike hungry dogs sheltering. Finding a dry camp spot also brought out our inventiveness as we looked for abandoned houses and new builds. Eventually we would find some sort of shelter, enough to cook in the dry.
Looking quite hardcore with our muddy bikes, soaked to the bone and probably smelling like seven days on the road, we arrived in the capital and found a cheap hostel. Sarajevo is of course famed for its siege between 1992-1995 when the city was held under fire from Serbian forces which surrounded the city for 3 years. Its inhabitants lived without running water, electricity and regular food supply whilst keeping a narrow grip on their beloved city. Today, although the mortars and bullets have left their scars and some buildings remain unrepaired the city is on the mend and moving forward at a fast pace. We strolled around the old medina which felt instantly like we were transported to somewhere in Istanbul, as Mosques sat proud above terracotta tiled roofs. Being British we also headed to the olympic stadium to pay homage to the spot where Torval and dean danced their way to gold.
Three days and we had our fill of city life and Burek, the local delicacy. We headed up and out through the hills towards Serbia, the weather was fine with the morning mist soon dispersing to leave bright blue skies. Following the main road in the afternoon, which was indicated with a big red line on our map we didn’t expect to suddenly end up on a single rough track heading along an old railway line through the heart of a deep gorge. Doubtful at times we were asured it was indeed the right way by passing cars. A series of tunnels ensued getting longer and darker the further we went. Like miners we donned our head lamps and walked the bikes, seeing just a few feet in front till a small light would mark the end. It was a strange experience which was repeated about 15 times on tunnels sometimes a kilometer long.
The night along with the day brought another welcome surprise, in the shape of our own river side villa complete with dinning table and sun deck to enjoy breakfast. Heading into Serbia we followed the main road with the Sunday traffic being slightly calmer. We stopped in the city of Uzice before opting for the country lanes to Krajevo. Our next rest was the town of Nis as we followed the railway down to the city and out of the mountains where we had our first crash. The award went to me as my front wheel slipped away on a tight turn, luckily just managing to get away with a grazed elbow and a summer 6-aside burn to the hip. Again like Sarajevo we turned up wet, timing it perfectly on our last day.
Although Nis isn’t hyped up in guidebooks we really enjoyed our time there. In the morning we headed out for a quick training run in the rain. Planning to follow the river for a few km, construction didn’t make it far from the centre and we ended up dodging puddles passed cars before returning for a warm shower, but a good 40mins none the less. Once dry we headed back out in the afternoon to visit one of the few remaining concentration camps from World War Two. Barbed wire fencing led us to a deserted courtyard, which seemed void of life. Eventually we found a lady who gave a brief talk and let us walk around the Holding House. Silence rang out as we made our way around trying to imagine the thousands of people passed through during the years of operations, a sombre experience.
Warm Showers.
The title says it all. Having returned one day from a coffee in Sarajevo we discovered two more bikes in the stairwell of our hostel. Instantly Tim and I wanted to know more. They turned out to belong to a Spanish couple called Cati and Eusebio. Over dinner we heard stories of their 3 years on the road. Tibet, South America…. Pplus a website called warmshowers.org which is couch surfing for the cycle touring world.
Leaving Nis we had made contact with Owain, an English guy working in Sofia who was a keen cyclist and someone Cati and Eusebio had recommended us. After a cold night in which Snow had fallen in Sofia and our tents had considerable ice not only on the outside, we arrived in the Bulgarian capital to an email asking us to meet for dinner outside the British Council where he worked.
Over the last few days we have enjoyed the company of Owain and Crissie, his girlfriend. Both outdoor enthusiasts, yesterday we were on a train and heading out of the city to enjoy a walk through the Bulgarian mountains. It felt good to be sitting on a train, being carried to somewhere new as a passenger. Staying with them also gave us a chance to give the bikes a clean and service ready for the last section of Europe, plus we managed a quick 45min run this morning.
We leave tomorrow towards Istanbul and would firstly like to thank Owain and Crissie for there hospitality and good food. It doesn’t yet feel like we have cycled across Europe but it defenatly feels like its time to leave, as the weather and temperatures seem to be heading into winter.
The good news is the cycling bug is everywhere and another friend-AKA Russell Kirby-is joining us come Istanbul for the route down to Beirut.
