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Charlie Walker
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Poland to Bulgaria

21/9/2010

15 Comments

 
Day 82
Location: Varna, Bulgaria
Miles on the clock: 5835

I felt ashamed after posting the dejected and pathetic rant about bad weather and Polish roads in my last blog. As if to compound this feeling, a day later the rain finally relented and I reached better roads with less murderous lorry drivers. 

PictureMorning mist, Slovakia
Hills sprang up as I approached the Slovakian border and the hard toil of slowly climbing steep slopes, pedal squeak after pedal squeak, in the refreshingly clear sunlight greatly pleased me. The two days I passed in eastern Slovakia were more than enough to hint at the country's great wealth of natural beauty. In the mornings mist crept along the valleys and gradually revealed quaint villages stretched along rickety roads; wild apple trees lining the roadside, their boughs groaning with plentiful and ripe fruit that have a pleasantly citric tang. On Saturday morning I watched villagers flocking to church with grave expressions and sombre outfits. An hour later, in similar villages I observed similarly attired droves spilling out of their old stone churches, talking and laughing in little groups, often with a chair-bound crone at the centre.

When I entered Hungary at dusk, one of the first sights I was greeted with was the vast red lettering of a sprawling Tesco hypermarket. As I moved south, picturesque vineyards were replaced by sunflower fields in full bloom. After 500 miles in five days I reached Szeged and my brother-in-law's parents. Zsuzsa was waiting on the outskirts of town with a handmade "Welcome to Szeged" sign, a beaming smile and a Turo Rudi - Hungary's unique chocolate bar containing cottage cheese. She jumped on the tram and, feeling like James Bond (excepting the orange hi-vis vest, generally filthy clothes and large polystyrene helmet), I shadowed the train back to their home.


PictureFirst of many meals in Szeged, Hungary
The first order of business was a warming shot of Palinka (Hungarian fruit brandy). A hot shower, my first in over two months, combined with the almost aggressive application of a luffa, produced torrents of water browner than the Amazon in monsoon season. I put on clean pajamas and began what became a five day feeding frenzy. Vegetable soups, chicken paprikash, chestnut tortes, all-encompassing breakfasts, afternoon teas, meals between meals, snack upon snack - I was in a heaven made all the sweeter by Zsuzsa's formidable skills in the kitchen. It is a credit to her culinary genius that I gained 5KG in as many days (no bad thing as I had lost 10% of my body weight since leaving home). That night I sunk gleefully into my first bed for 62 nights and submitted to a food-induced coma.


Picture
Toni in the Garden
PictureZsuzsa during kit cleaning and bike repairs
During the next few days I explored some of pretty Szeged - from the Turkish baths (where the massages are wonderfully rigorous) to the second biggest mosque in Europe, the small city is dotted with grand buildings and elaborately moustachioed statues of heroic historic figures. I was interviewed by a journalist and made the front page of the local paper (click here) of which I couldn't read a word, and I generally enjoyed a break from the bike. It is impossible to adequately explain the hospitality I was showered with by Toni and Zsuzsa but their endearing request to become my "second parents" upon arrival gives a sense of their loving nature and their warm welcome.

It was hard to leave the friendly cocoon I lapsed into in Szeged but the road beckoned. As Mary Shelley wrote in Frankenstein -"the traveller's life is one that includes much pain amidst its enjoyments. His feelings are forever on the stretch and when he begins to sink into repose he finds himself obliged to quit that on which he rests in pleasure for something new which again engages his attention and which also he forsakes for other novelties."

I was accompanied to the Romanian border by Shoni and Orsi, two of the family, and then crossed over and pushed on alone into the land of Dracula, heavily laden with homemade cakes, jams, sandwiches and a salami the size of a baseball bat. Timisoara was the first city I reached and I was surprised to notice upon entry that it is twinned with Nottingham. From here on I remained off the beaten track and took the back roads through rural Romania. 

PictureBanat Mountains, Romania
Crossing through southern Transylvania I encountered the Banat mountains, a southern arm of the Carpathian range. The roads here are better described at tracks or paths - some have the rattling remnants of antiquated cobble stones while others are simply muddy slopes that washout completely in autumn before being blanketed with two meters of snow in winter when the three ski lifts I saw in the Semenic resort open for business. I was more than compensated for the rotten roads by the exquisite and far-reaching views that were unveiled from the top of each laborious pass.

Having descended from the mountains I sped alongside a river until it joined the mighty Danube which I loosely followed for the next few days. The lush, green plain the river inhabits winds majestically eastwards, separating Romania from Bulgaria, until it spills into the Black Sea after its 1771 mile journey from Germany's Black Forest. However, at this time of year, straying just a few miles north of the river's fertile valley floor brings one to hills of tinder-dry corn fields which are constantly being burnt off, filling the sky with an acrid smoke and giving everything a hazy, myopic appearance. In the brutal, dry stillness of these rolling hills I saw more horse drawn carts than cars. This is the land of the Roma gypsies who live a harsh agricultural-based existence. I was amused to see their carts decorated with salvaged number plates, while the horses are all dressed with a lively red tassel bobbing back and forth on their foreheads. As I drew alongside the carts on the largely empty roads I would hold mutually incoherent conversations with the drivers who unanimously seemed to find my general appearance hilarious. 


PictureDry hills near Danube, Romania
One morning I was woken in my tent by a jangling flock of sheep being herded past. I climbed out into the moving scraggy cloud and was accosted by two shepherds. They asked if I carry a gun and when I said no they began asking for items of my kit with an unpleasant manner. One produced a phone and made several calls, each time mentioning the word 'turista' severally. I calmly but quickly began to pack up and slipped my camping knife into my pocket just in case. When I was starting to leave the two men, who had stood close by, grabbed me and frog-marched me along a dusty track. I thought it best to submit and we soon reached a group of five men loading crates of plums into a truck. They didn't wave or shake my hand and I soon found myself in the centre of an eager circle with the boss. He picked up a plum, produced a small pocket knife and, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on mine, deftly sliced the fruit and removed the stone in one swift motion. He proceeded to cram the fruit's flesh into his face and chomp it in a triumphant gesture of challenge with drops of juice running down his chin. It seemed I had little choice but to also eat a plum and to try to do so in a cooler manner than him. I picked one up and felt like Crocodile Dundee as I produced my larger knife, flicked it open with a theatrical flourish and replicated his action. I'm fairly certain I heard a gasp as I stuffed the too large fruit into my small mouth. My jubilant grin as I chomped in turn was so wide that I couldn't chew properly and a fleck of fruit breached my windpipe. The tension dissolved into laughter instantly as I turned as purple as a plum and, with a spluttering cough, re-decorated the ground. A few minutes later, after we had all wiped away the tears, I was set on my way with a bag containing 2KG of plums.

On my last day in Romania I was waved off the road at noon by a group of men at a roadside bar. The day was hot and I gladly accepted the icy beer they proffered. We sat engaged in staccato communications and before I knew it I had drunk three beers. The combination of midday heat, a small breakfast, little alcohol for three months and abundant exercise made three feel like thirty. That afternoon, listening to Ennio Morricone's heroic western theme tunes, I wobbled through small villages, pissed as a fart, high-fiving kids, doffing my sweat-soaked sunhat to pretty girls and toothless hags alike, and repeatedly expending my entire Romanian vocabulary at the top of my voice in one beery breath. The hangover kicked in at about 4 o'clock and I swapped Morricone for more sombre sounds, stoping at each of the frequent wells and fountains to douse my throbbing head and drink heavily, repenting of my excess.

The long, narrow bridge over the Danube brought me into Bulgaria and my last country in the European Union. I've crossed 17 countries now and my passport is still embarrassingly bare. I made my way to Varna and met Plamen, an old school friend. Varna is a beautiful city on the Black Sea with the relaxed feel of a holiday resort. Roman, Ottoman and Byzantium ruins are scattered around the town and I indulged in a very lazy two days at Plamen's home in the Brazilian consulate. We went for a spin in the Maserati and, as the needle nudged past 200km/h, I momentarily wondered what my bike lark was all about. Only momentarily though. This morning I remount and head for Turkey and the enormity of Asia that lies beyond the Bosphorus.

15 Comments
Leon McCarron link
21/9/2010 12:44:52 am

Great to read your news and see you embracing the adventure! Keep up the good riding and writing

Happy trails

Leon

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1/5/2018 03:46:29 am

I've been hearing a lot of good things about Bulgaria. Aside from the fact that it's a home for beauty queens, the country has its own charm to offer to the rest of the world. Traveling from Poland to Bulgaria sounds like a great adventure! Everything in this country is picturesque, that's why if you're planning to go there, make the plan as soon as possible! I am sure that you will experience everything you've been wanting to experience there!

Reply
JSBT
21/9/2010 02:04:36 am

Much like David Hasselhoff, you are making your name in Eastern Europe! Loving your work as ever champ.

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Zsuzsa and Tóni
21/9/2010 07:17:23 am

Dear Charlie,
Thank you very much for the fantastic account of your rovings.
You aren,t only our second son but our English teacher too:-)
We wish you all best on your journey!
Zsuzsa and Tóni

Reply
Mick Kirby
21/9/2010 09:06:52 am

Love reading the blogs. Keep up the work, following your progress with interest.
Mick

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Johnny Walker
22/9/2010 03:10:37 am

Dear Charlie,
Just read your fascinating latest blog and as I wipe away tears of laughter and raise my glass of Black Label to your good health - I am en route from Kuala Lumpur by luxury coach - thought I would do a bit of a recce for you before your arrival out here in S.E. Asia in the spring of 2011. At a mere S$45 - £22 this is the way to travel - a double decker bus with only 20 leather, fully reclining seats on the top deck - each with a 20" TV, 100s of films etc. full power to each seat, continuous wi-fi and an excellent lounge and bar downstairs - and to cap it all I am the only pax and with not one, but two onboard hostesses to look after my every need. Only concern is that I didn't realize that Lewis Hamilton was doing a bit of moon-lighting and driving me down to Singapore to get into training for this weekend's F1! Last time I went down to top up my glass the needle was firmly fixed at the right of the speedo 135kmph - I have a feeling that we are probably doing more like that in MPH - but hell compared to you this is a walk in the park!!
Many thanks your itinerary for Q4 and Q1 2011 - we will definitely meet you somewhere along the road.
God bless - good luck and continue showing us all up and making us immensely proud.
Lots of love,
Johnny x (EN ROUTE FROM KL TO SINGAPORE)

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Henry Cottam Cottam
22/9/2010 04:20:23 am

Dear Charlie,

Great, Great Stuff.

You are a fine example of the English spirit and love of adventure.

Keep it up.

With love and admiration,

Cousin Henry.

Reply
Gwen
1/10/2010 01:03:36 am

Keep up the good work Charlie,
You are doing the stuff we only dream of. Brett and I are following your progress as you embark into Turkey. Safe travels, we salute you.
Gwen.

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SFT
20/10/2010 07:23:52 am

I'm Jack's brother and am loving the blog, apart from the fact that your impressive feats make my very existence feel meaningless and empty. Apart from that it's amazing. Good luck

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Harry Santa
2/11/2010 08:55:15 am

Loving your blogs - missing you muchos

Keep safe

Haz xx

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