Istanbul

My photographic skills don't do justice to the beaauty of Istanbul

After 5 weeks and 3954 km I have reached Istanbul. If this was my final destination it would be a fitting end, it is a most spectacular place. 14 million people live here and most seem to be fishing off the bridges. I am spending four nights in a good apartment before going on to explore eastern Turkey, then Georgia.

Reaching the Bosporus, Istanbul

The Gelato Bridge, connecting the old and new parts of the city.

Serbian Surprise

In the small Serbian city of Zrejanin the guesthouse owner took me to an excellent traditional restaurant. The food was rich, the portions huge and the wine tasty. Next day I was suffering when I bumped into a hippy who asked me back to his commune to look at the work of some international wood artists. Over a late lunch they invited me to stay, but I was feeling queasy and just wanted a quiet hotel room. I got a suitable place near the border.
Romania is a land of contrast, half the population drive flash German cars and the other drive horse and carts. As I rode through central Romania there were lorry loads of old german cars being transported south, somehow these are recycled into top of the range BMWs, Audis and Mercedes. It felt sinister. Southern Romania is Roma territory, where shepherds tend meagre flocks, some farmers harvest with a scythe, some seem to live in straw hovels. 
No campsites or hotels around and so began a tough 24 hours. I waited until darkness fell and pitched the tent in a hollow by an unused track. I had just accidently cleaned my teeth with savlon when a 4x4 came racing past, less then 6 feet from where I sat motionless like a scared rabbit. I had a fitful four hours sleep and was up early determined to sleep in hotel the next night. That meant a long 180km ride. But I still had plenty of cash to get rid of before I left Romania so I went to a good restaurant. When I went to pay with a 100 dinar note they refused it, dinar is Serbian currency. As I carry fake debit cards in my wallet it was a faf to sort out. Next day as I left to catch the 9 o'clock ferry I noted the hotel clock read 9 o'clock. Romania is on eastern European time, one hour ahead. Then it rained.
Normally their is little difference in the natural geography when you cross a border. Not so from Romania to Bulgaria. As soon as you cross the Danube you move away from the flat farmland to a hillier, varied verdant landscape that reminded me of rural Dorset. On my first night in Bulgaria I bumped into a family from Yorkshire; it was my first proper conversation for 3 days. So a big thank you to them, I had been going slightly mad.

Lunch at the commune

Sculpture park near remote Serbian village

Landslides closed the road, so it was a quiet Ride through northern

View from my first campsite in Romania.

Austria to Serbia

I found the Hungarian equivalent of Blackpool. About 100 miles south of Budapest I saw signs for a campsite (rare in Hungary). Following these led me to a semi derelict campsite, the gates were open but the recption was closed. Pitching my tent I could hear the music of a beach party happening on the banks of the Danube. I tried to guess the tunes just from the bass, but they all sounded like La Macarena. A big family camping nearby were playing loud folk punk. The shower block was derelict (see picture) but there was an old, unused, empty motel on the site. The rooms were locked but the showers weren't. It was a bit spooky.

Shower block in  the run down campsite

My route to Hungary had taken me down the Danube through Austria. This was very beautiful and the people were friendly too.

A typical picnic place by the Danube

Slovakia was a culture shock. Or rather, a lack of culture shock. I will gloss over the place.
By contrast Hungary was great (except that dodgy campsite). Budapest was magnificent. A huge music festival was about to start so there was no accomadation left in the centre. My hotel was in the suburbs, next to the old communist low rise blocks of flats, where colourful old trams rattled and hissed along the broad dusty boulevards. Very atmospheric.

Riding into Budapest

Yesterday I crossed into Sebia and stepped back in time 40 years. There are lots of old, soviet era cars on the street, very few supermarkets, and you can't drink the tap water -its green. Today is a rest day for me, I am staying in a big air conditioned room in the centre of the small city of Zrenjanin. Actually riding in the heat (there is a heatwave in central europe at the moment) is okay as long as the road is flat - so you are moving quickly with not too much effort. I will try and avoid hills and mountains. I am off to Romania tomorrow where I will try and follow the Danube because it should be flat and scenic.

Sadistic Germans

Riding through Black Forest was epic. The climbs were up to 19 per cent steep, and the descents on smooth, swooping empty roads were up to 13 km long. Brilliant. But then I got deeper into germany where a lot of the roads are too narrow to safely ride on so you have to use a maze of cycle paths.
I found the Danube Cycle Way okay, and met a french medical student going at about the same pace so we rode together for a couple of days. He is obsessed with churches, minsters and cathedrals which is okay for a couple of days but I didn't want to see every religous building between here and  Budapest (his destination) so today I rode solo again.
Onto Austria tomorrow, then Slovakia and Hungary. Hopefully I will get a good night's sleep, although a horde of Belgian hippies have just turned up on the campsite.

The ferry from France to Germnay

A traffic jam on the Danube Cycle Way.