Black Forest to the Black Sea - The end of the Road!

 I hope you'll indulge me and let me use this post as catharsis.

The journey has come to an end and, unfortunately for me, in more ways than one.

I'm back home in the UK now ... and note I say I. My beautiful bike is sitting in a scrap yard in Neumarkt in der Oberpfalz, Bavaria, Germany.

We parted company as far as I remember in a rather dramatic manner when a green car on the A3 Autobahn near Nuremberg decided it wanted my bit of road. Of course car verses bike ... no matter how big, heavy powerful shiny red and loved  (Bitter, moi!)  that bike is ... will always end up with the car winning.

Seeing my bike, or what's left of it, leads me to believe it put up one hell of a fight... it looked like an Airfix model kit fresh out of the box but detached from the grey plastic bit

As for me, well I was apparently laid out like a discarded May at C & A mannequin after ... and here's the bummer ...some vague masked figure cut off all my clothes. Well not all, they removed my boots and left me my socks and pants... and that's not my trousers for my

American friends ... leaving me looking like some character in a Brian Rix Farce. (Google it)

I did, I seem to remember, derive a bit of satisfaction from hearing a stoutly built nurse grunting as she scissored through my armour and Kevlar. Fortunately, I never was was one to skimp on protective clothing.

SPOILER ALERT ...I am alright. Having been prodded, X-rayed, Scanned, Ultra-Sounded, given away more bodily fluid samples than i realised I had and interrogated in German ... a strangely eerie experience ... I've been declared fit. I do though have joints of a size that would win prizes at a cattle show and the skin texture and colour of an aging Smurf!

As I said, I don't remember much, some beautiful fräulein (apparently that's an insult now, did you know) holding my hand and whispering lovely things in a language I don't know at all, the sound of a helicopter landing - disappointingly for me it went away without me after the crew decided I could travel by road -  and an ambulance ride where began the attack on my outer wear

I came to properly in a 3 bed ward with only 2 of us in it. With me was a man I know know as Kai who fortunately for me spoke perfect English and was an Anglophile. Kai had also been in a motorcycle accident, also not his fault. He was in a very bad way...yet took it upon himself to look after me in my dazed and language depleted state.

When I was fit to be discharged the hospital staff appeared to be unable to take on my concern that the clothes I had come in with had been turned into some form of HI-Vis bunting and that I had nothing to wear. This was discussed backwards and forwards between the staff, Kai and I and ... I'm sure you will think I'm exaggerating for comical effect but honestly the staff suggested that I best take a 35 minute taxi ride in my boots, socks, knickers and a hospital gown to the Scrapyard were my bike was so I could get some clothes from my panniers.

When I reacted to this suggestion in horror and clutched the slightly soiled gown I was wearing the face of one nurse lit up and she went and got me a clean, pressed gown from a drawer - sorted .. I think not.

Eventually Kai, who picked up ... it actually wasn't all that difficult ... that I was reluctant to arrive at a scrapyard full of Hairy A****d  scrappies dressed like a reject from The Village People in a floral gown that was open at the rear ... kindly gave me his Nike tracksuit... the kindness of strangers eh.

If I may, I'll leave it there and talk about the return trip proper later ...the thought of what could have happened  ..... in a scrapyard in Bavaria is too horrendous to contemplate at the moment...

Good night.

Black Forest to the Black Sea - Another Dream Realised.

 Well we did it, the Black Sea yesterday and Tulcea today.

17 Days, 10 countries, numerous cakes, even more beers.

926 miles from home to the Source in Donaueschingen

2123 miles following the Danube ...I know the river is only  1770 miles long but I tend to get distracted or lost.

3049 miles in total

After a few more selfies and bike shots in front of the Black Sea in Constanta it was a great ride back to the Dunărea  ... see I'm getting the hang of this name thing just in time to set off home.

I "followed" the river up to its delta then and I say it like that because the road was really quite a way away from the river banks on higher, sandy ground but that meant great views when it did appear.

I didn't realise when I initially stopped to take this shot that I was by a grave yard.

When I did I was fascinated by the ornate designs of the headstones. Most were some form of cross but very intricate.

I met these likely lads on the road and at first admit I was a bit wary of them but as you can see they were quite a cheery bunch.

And then ...

Anything Hollywood can do

Tulcea and another dream realised.

     A ride free day here to catch a bit of a rest and then I start the journey home.

If you have been, thank you for being with me. If you fancy a bit more then I'm hoping that two iconic roads ... the Transfagarasan and the Transalpina ... are open. They are weather dependant as they cross the Carpathian Mountains of Romania and although it has been really warm and sunny so far on my trip there is some snow on them already

If there is any I ain't going  ... I know, a wimp but I don't mend so quickly now.

I also want to cross the Great Hungarian Plain and see some Hungarian Grey Cattle... why wouldn't I?

                                    We'll see how it goes.

                                                                   Goodnight.

                          oh and thank you for all the Happy Birthday Messages.

Black Forest to the Black Sea - A Sunday day out to the Seaside.

 What did I do today? Well being a Sunday a trip to the seaside seemed to be the thing to do although after 2 weeks of draining hot sunshine today is typical British Summer weather.

After leaving Ruse in Bulgaria and arriving in Silistra I naively couldn't work out why the route took you into the centre then suddenly it got busy with pedestrians many carrying black carrier bags full of something.

I realised you had to come this way because the Bulgaria to Romania border is in the middle of the town but still couldn't understand why so many people, and I don't mean a few I mean hundreds, were walking through the border as both are in the EEC.

When I stopped to photograph the old Romanian Border Control I asked these 2 ladies what was going on and they explained that the tax on goods, particularly cigarettes is so much lower in Bulgaria than Romania....and as I've found out the Balkans are far from a smoke free zone, even in restaurants etc. ... so this is their regular Sunday morning activity.

Climbing out of Silistra I got a beautiful view of the river and guess what ... it really is blue here... mind you around 1000 miles from Vienna!

Now, the Danube actually ends  at an expansive Delta and Tulcea, my destination, is the last town you can get to easily without a boat. So Although I will have followed the Danube all the way I won't really get a good view of the Black sea.

Problem sorted, its my birthday tomorrow so I've treated myself to a lovely room overlooking the Black sea in Constanta which means that today after going through Silistra  I'm taking a short ride away from the river...

 

And I did,   the Black Sea ...

And one very chuffed traveller ...

And a bonus... when I returned to my hotel the receptionist called me and gave me a bottle of wine as when entering my passport details  she'd noticed it was my birthday tomorrow .

I was going to open in tonight but a beer calls so I take it to Tulcea where I can celebrate reaching my goal and I've got 2 days R and R.

Cheers!

   

Black Forest to the Black Sea - It's Thursday, - and Friday - it must be Bulgaria.

These last few nights have been a bit late so I'm going to cram 2 days into one...hope that's ok.  I'm now in Ruse, Bulgaria ... and just as an aside listening to the Women's Rugby World Cup Final on line. ... and the result! I got here earlier than I planned as the Communist Regime's Concentration Camp Memorial on Belene Island requires an ID check to visit as it is still  an active Civil Prison. The check takes 2 days so that put paid to that idea.

The ride south from  Băile Herculane in Romania to the Bulgarian border not too spectacular, except perhaps for a view of the massive Iron Gate Dam, or Hydroelectric Power Station as it should be called.

Again another joint venture between 2 bordering countries Romania and the then Yugoslavia. I did visit the Dam's museum but it was very dry ... not sounding very enthusiastic today am I.

I am always interested in 20th Century war memorials, they seem more relevant than those of centuries ago but again in countries like these in the Balkans they can be a source of constant rankle. This one in Romania was to their fallen in both WW1 and WW2 ... 

... but that covers neutrality, support to the Axis Powers, then the Allied Powers and a land grab from Hungary.

The border crossing to Bulgaria was a game of two halves! First you ride over an wonderful, modern bridge, then you hit cobbled roads. And I don't mean streets and market squares but cobbles for miles, bad for the bike and my fillings.

There had been a lot of recent wildfires in this area but good to see the river still there.

Now looking from Bulgaria over to Romania,

I stayed over night on Thursday 26th in Oryahavo and just outside my B & B was another memorial I wandered up to. I could of course only recognise what I though were names and then dates of birth and death. Whilst I expected to see 1918 and 1940 ish I noticed that there were a lot of men who died in 1923.

I say men because you can see the statue is of a "civilian". On reading up I find it is also in memory of the Communists who rose up against the government  briefly from 23rd September to 29th September during which time they captured Oryahavo ...exactly 102 years ago!

Had a beer overlooking the Danube and all was good ....

Today Saturday 27th, was a much more interesting and colourful day. It started with a walk up to the memorial again and a morning river check...

 ..... a ride past a village spring ...

                                                                                      

... and some great views of the river.

There was still a lot of dreary Soviet style architecture around though even though Bulgaria was never part of USSR.

I began to see more of the rural scenes I had expected, shepherds wandering with their flocks of sheep and goats ..horses and cart ... even a farmer using a horse drawn single furrow plough ... but never feel comfortable stopping to photograph people. 

I'd also heard about the feral dogs both here and in Romania and I certainly saw them. It's well known that they are not my favourite animals and so I was not impressed when they chased me ... they were not fierce though really and if I stopped they ran away, almost as if they'd never thought through the plan of what they would do if the ever actually caught a motorbike!

Wasn't the same for the horse and carts though the dogs did really go for them and I think I have a rough translation of what the drivers shouted at them.

I rode along one road where there were a lot of people with horse and carts collecting wood and I did in fact stop and speak to one couple who were remarkably friendly. I could only photograph the horse and cart if the woman was in the picture though ... seems fair.

And what a lovely picture to end the day on ......

                Good night.

      

Black Forest to the Black Sea -

 Well last night should have ended in Serbia but when I got to the Ilok–Bačka Palanka Bridge border it was chaos ... I'd been warned by a few other people I'd met at various overnights but hadn't taken much notice. There were long queues of lorries and these seemed to be trying to block the cars so there were a lot of frustrated people ... I gathered from those that could speak a bit of English that it was "a pig issue"  no not The Big Issue ... and I could believe that. If every person consumed the amount of pork I've had this last couple of weeks there can be no pigs left.

Anyway it was 32 degs and too hot to sit in a queue on a bike and wait so as I had time I decided to ride back the way I'd come to a smaller crossing and I could get there through a National Park.  Best laid plans eh, on my bimble through the back roads I got stopped by a police officer who spoke excellent English and wanted to know why I was there ... first time in all my trips I've been stopped and my ID checked...apparently I'd passed a sign saying no access to the public ... in Croatian obviously ... way back.  I didn't know the handshake but I did have a membership card which on being shown changed the atmosphere immediately. Apparently the pig situation was Swine Flu. Croatia began culling nearly 12,000 pigs on Monday at farms in the east of the country, in a bid to prevent African swine fever from devastating the industry and I presume Serbia were a bit wary. So my flippant remarks, as they often are,  about pork, were completely misappropriate. Anyway the nice officer let me carry on if I promised not to to stop anywhere but he did advise me to try and avoid Serbia if I could ,

Well I'm too old for grief so change of plan, I booked another night at the hotel I'd just left and decided that today I'd ride through Hungary over the top of Serbia, then down to where the Danube left Serbia for Romania and carry on from there. Yes I'd miss out a 147 mile stretch of the Danube through Serbia but I'm riding for pleasure not the Guinness Book of records so hope you'll understand.

In any even this change meant I'd now be able to visit three sites on the Romanian side which I'd really wanted to see.

Like this guy ...The rock sculpture of Decebalus.  A colossal carving  ... 55 metres ...of the face of Decebalus (r. AD 87–106), the last king of Dacia  and again although I knew about the sculpture I didn't know who he was. The carving is not old though, it was commissioned by a Romanian business man in1994 and took 10 years.

Another was Abandoned Baths of Băile Herculane in an old spa town in the mountains of Romania where, according to legend, the great hero Hercules once bathed.

Not in these baths though they were built in 19th century and have sadly gone to rack and ruin. I first saw them on a programme on the Danube Joanna Lumley did. A young female architect is heading up a project to restore them ... some task.

The other site was the Iron Gates  ... A spectacular gorge which forms part of the border between Romania and Serbia. The now sprawling river is forced through the gorge which at its narrowest is only 500ft wide but 300ft deep.

Worth the detour.

                          More tomorrow.

                                         Goodnight

Black Forest to the Black Sea - on to Croatia.

 As I set off this morning the first sighting of the river was at the  bridge crossing just outside Baja ... and seeing the sign I realised  that I'm an exonymist  ... yes I had to look it up as well ... in referring to the river by the name I know it as but of course it's called differently by the locals of the countries it flows through.

So we started in Germany following the Donau , then the Dunaj  through Slovakia , the Duna in Hungary today and later, I hope, the Dunav through Croatia, Serbia and Bulgaria and finally the Dunărea in Romania. 

By the way it's called the Dunai in Ukraine just the other side if the delta to Tulcea in Romania where I'm hoping to end up but keeping well away from there.

Can I return to the subject of how the apparent culture in Slovakia and Hungary has made the people seem to me, well putting it bluntly, rude.  I accept that's probably not their intention  .. no different to me saying "hey up" to southerners in the street I guess, but you get nothing back (Actually I don't say "Hey up " to anyone!)

Anyway, suddenly and markedly it changed during the course of the evening and people where exceptionally friendly and helpful. Pathetic linguist that I am it also took me a while to realise there was a lot of German mixed in with responses to my poor attempts at communication. Further research ... well I can only eat so much pork and drink so much beer ... say that this part of Hungary has a large population  “Danube Swabians” descendants of the settlers from Germany who  were encouraged to repopulate the area after the collapse of the Otterman Empire  

Even the signs are friendly. When I stopped to look at waht I though was a Toll Booth but turned out to be a shrine I noted this one....
 ... and others ....

                                                                                                            

   Talking of signs, having so many                                                                         boundary changes over time, even in                                                                    our own lifetimes can be a pain for the  sign writers, and expensive for  the local  authority!

Climbing up higher on the western bank the crops changed from root veg and  corn and vineyards began, I don't know when picking time actually is but it cant be far away because the Black grapes were delicious and opportunity to sample the wares of the many wineries increased. Obviously couldn't stop and sample but I may seek out some Hungarian and Croatian wine when home just to see.

As in a lot of European countries there are so many shrines along the roads and I admit I don't really understand their significance.

Some times you will see 2 or 3 within a mile or so. They even put them up in the air!

The villages I passed through were as we all imagine I guess with some                                                      really run down but others in the same street could be exceptionally                                                          ornate.

It was interesting to see this sign at the now 

defunct Hungarian/Croatian border. Why just the locals and us and the Germans. Obviously this part of the world hasn't seen enough Hen and Stag does!!!

Just after entering Croatia I wanted to visit a WWII memorial at Batina. It commemorated the success of the Red Army and Yugoslavian Partisans over the Axis Powers, including Hungary, in 1944.  You can see why there may still be old sores around an area like this. But a beautiful and peaceful palace now with a view that takes in Hungary, Croatia and Serbia. 

And of of course the Dunav, sshe's still there.

  

 Well, the day didn't go as planned from this point on so a late evening ....I'll leave it there and talk tomorrow,