009 CYCLE TOURING CYPRUS

 

CYPRUS

120 Km – 8 Days

14 September – 22 September 2007

MAP

PHOTOS

 

14 September – Girne, Cyprus

I left the Baltic cycle group as they headed to the Greek side of the island. Vidmantas, a friend of Sigitas (leader of Baltic Cycles), offered me his house as he was away for the weekend. Staying in Girne while having his home all to myself was thus a no-brainer.

Cyprus, officially called the Republic of Cyprus, is situated in the Mediterranean Sea. It’s the third-largest island in the Mediterranean and a popular tourist destination. The Republic of Cyprus claims to be the entire island’s legitimate government, with Nicosia the country’s capital and biggest city.

In reality, Cyprus is divided into two main parts. The area under the control of the Republic, is in the south and west and comprises about 59% of the island. The north, administered by the self-declared Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, covers about 36%. The remaining 4% forms a UN buffer zone. The international community considers the island’s northern part (occupied by Turkish forces) illegal under international law.

I stayed on the Turkish side as obtaining a visa to enter Greece was practically impossible.

 

15 September – Girne (Turkish) Kyrenia (Greek)

While in Girne, my time was spent enquiring about a Syrian visa. Sadly, the Embassy was on the Southern side of the island and, hence, the Greek side, a no-go area to me. No one in Girne appeared able to help, and instead, I’d a leg wax and pedicure. Things would sure sort themselves out.

 

16-17 September – Girne

While having the luxury of a room, I explored the coast around Girne by bicycle. Cyprus was immensely mountainous and barren, but the shoreline was lovely and dotted by many fantastic beaches. Regrettably, many new developments spoiled the rural feel, but there’s no stopping development. These developments further endangered the nesting places of the sea turtles, which have been breeding along the Cyprus coast for centuries.

An additional day was spent in Girne to contact the Syrian Embassy. Vidmantes offered to get the correct telephone number, but still, no answers were received. I decided to leave it and try my luck at the Syrian border.

 

18 September - Girne – Kaplica – 60 kilometres

The next day I thanked Vidmantes and cycled out of Girne in the direction of Famagusta. An idyllic spot on the beach featuring a bar and restaurant got my attention. I considered it a good enough place and pitched the tent. Being September, it was getting to the end of the summer season, and only a few super pale Brits in their Union Jack swimsuits remained.

 

19 September - Kaplica – Famagusta – 60 kilometres

The following morning, I abandoned my little paradise. Instead, I biked over the mountain (nothing like a mountain pass first thing in the morning). Even though there were campsites outside Famagusta, a hotel close to the harbour was an excellent place to park off. The ferry to Mersin departed at 8h30 in the morning and the ticket office opened at 7h00.

Famagusta turned out fascinating as it was from here Silk Road merchants transported goods to Western Europe. The historic centre is still surrounded by walls built by the Venetians in the 15th and 16th centuries. Hours were spent wandering its ancient ruins and the streets of the old walled city. Unfortunately, I was severely bitten by mosquitos (I think) and had itchy bites all over my face, arms, and legs. Irritated by the itching, I returned to my abode.

 

20 September – Famagusta, Cyprus - Mersin (Mainland Turkey) - By Ferry

Early morning, I loaded the bike and pedalled off to the harbour only to find the ferry at 8h30 pm and not in the morning, as stated in the email. It was easy to spend a day in Famagusta, wandering its Salamis Ruins dating to the 11th Century BC. There’s still an amazing amount intact after destruction by enemies and several earthquakes. Then, off to the harbour where I met 2 Nepali guys biking around the world. I later wondered whether they were, indeed, cycling or merely using public transport to score free accommodation and food.

 

21 September - Mersin – Atakia - By Bus

The ferry came as a shock as it could only be described as a rust bucket. I doubted its capability of reaching the mainland but at least it had seats where one could sit and sleep. The trip didn’t take 9 hours as the ticket stated (not surprising, taking the state it was in), and we only slinked into Mersin the next morning at 9h00. En route, we’d our fair amount of drama as a man fell overboard and (rust bucket or not) the ferry promptly spun around and picked him up. Not an easy task in the dark, hats off to the captain!

The two Nepali guys were also heading towards Syria. Once in Mersin, we decided to take a bus to Atakia, situated on the Turkey/Syrian border. If impossible to get a Syrian visa at the border, I wanted enough time to remain on my Turkish visa to make alternative arrangements. In Atakia we located excellent digs at Sister Barbara’s where we stayed the night. After waking to one of the Napoli guys fondling my breast, I yelled at him, took my stuff, and moved to a bed in another dormitory where one could lock the door. The little bastard!

The following day, I packed up and cycled to the Syrian border and luckily never encountered the Nepalese guys again.

 

22 September – Atakia, Turkey – Aleppo, Syria – 110 kilometres

I arrived at the Syrian border apprehensively and met four motorbike riders travelling overland to South Africa. They introduced me to Ahmed, a tour guide, helping them obtain Syrian visas. Ahmed was incredibly accommodating and helped fill in the forms and then disappeared. Three hours later, I’d my visa and was on my way to Aleppo, Syria. Sometimes I couldn’t believe my luck and realised I was extremely fortunate to have met the motorbike riders as well as Ahmed.

My first thought cycling into Syria was, “What’ve I let myself into”. Syria was an entirely different world, different culture, foreign language, alien landscape, food, and housing. Not only was it a conservative Muslim and desert country but one of the oldest inhabited regions in the world. Archaeological finds indicated human habitation dated back 700,000 years.

Still, little remained to be seen along the way except for cotton fields and typical Syrian communities consisting of a mosque, a market, and a few modest courtyard homes. Traditionally these homes appear modest from the outside but could be quite lavished internally. These homes further offered total privacy as well as a communal family area, often with a water feature or even a pool. I was so impressed by this type of architecture that I swore if ever I get the opportunity to build a home, it will be a courtyard-style home. 

 

008 CYCLE TOURING TURKEY (1)

 

Photo by Ed Carter

TURKEY (1)

881 Km – 18 Days

27 August – 13 September 2007

MAP

PHOTOS

  

27 August – Bulgarian Border – Kirklareli, Turkey – 50 kilometres

Eddie and I arrived in Turkey, a country with a long and fascinating history, at the end of August and in the sweltering heat. Once across the border, we headed towards the nearest town and bike shop as Eddies’ bicycle rim was cracked, making it impossible to continue.

Turkish people are some of the world’s kindest, and while waiting, offers of tea, watermelon, as well as coffee were received. Unfortunately, the rim took longer than envisaged to repair. By the time all was done, it was raining and we opted for accommodation in Kirklareli. Turkey is a transcontinental country straddling eastern Europe and Asia and was thus bound to throw us a few surprises. Still, I was amazed to learn that our first town, Kirklareli, was one of the first settlements in Europe.

 

28 August - Karklareli – Safalan – 96 kilometres

By morning I was eager to go exploring. Turkey is not flat; the best part of the day was spent cycling up and down hills, heading in Istanbul’s direction. A picnic area featuring a restaurant and toilets indicated the end of the day’s ride.

 

29-31 August - Safalan – Istanbul – 137 kilometres

Seeing a long distance remained to historic Istanbul, we packed up early. Cycling into large and busy Istanbul, Turkey’s economic, cultural, and historic centre, was a nightmare in the horrendous traffic, especially during peak hours. Unfortunately, none of the campsites indicated on the map still existed, and by 21h00, we found alternative accommodation. But, at least I’d my first glimpse of the Mediterranean. As stressful as the ride was, I was happy to be in this beautiful and historic city.

The following morning, and in daylight, locating a backpacker hostel was much more manageable. The place was well situated in the tourist part of town, close to the Blue Mosque. Istanbul is an immensely popular destination and most budget accommodation was thus filled to the brim. The only beds available were on the hostel’s roof, where beds were piled in, leaving no spaces between - resembling a huge communal bed. It thus came as no surprise to run into the Baltic Cycle Group.

The day was mostly spent exploring Europe’s most populous city. We pushed and shoved our way through the city’s markets, jam-packed with a warren of stalls where the smells, colours and sights were intoxicating. We visited Istanbul’s famous mosques and watched hopefuls fishing in the Bosporus strait, marking Europe and Asia’s dividing line.

Eddie headed home from Istanbul, and I decided to tag along with the Baltic Cyclists as we headed in the same direction.

 

1 September - Istanbul - Bodrum - By Ferry

There was no sleeping in on the roof and I walked in the harbour’s direction to purchase a ferry ticket to Bodrum. As the boat left at 14h00, I returned to the hostel to collect my stuff and say goodbye to the Baltic cyclists departing as only 15 riders continued towards Cyprus.

The ferry was a pleasant surprise as it was more substantial than foreseen and sported a pool, gym and restaurants. The ocean resembled a lake, and most of the day was spent on the deck at the pool. The restaurant onboard was costly, and we could barely afford the necessities. Still, I had a beer while watching the sunset and hung around until past midnight watching the night sky, as there wasn’t a breath of wind, the sky cloudless and the weather pleasantly warm.

 

2 September - Bodrum – Datca (by boat)

The next day was mainly spent swimming and lounging about until reaching Bodrum at around 15h00. Once at Bodrum, we hopped on a ferry in the direction of Datca, where our arrival was about 19h00. As it was already late, camping was on an open lot near the harbour where a small shop provided beer and snacks.

 

3 September - Datca – Marmaris – 70 kilometres

From Datca, a scenic coastal road ran along the Mediterranean to the touristy port town of Marmaris. Albeit hilly and hot, the scenery and beaches were spectacular. En route, stopping wasn’t purely to have breakfast but also to swim. The Turkish breakfast mainly consisted of a basket of bread, cheese, tomatoes, cucumber, and olives washed down with a glass of ayran.

Not much exploring was done, as even though Marmaris has a long history, the 1957 earthquake destroyed the city and left only the castle standing.

Marmaris’s campground was right on the beach, with excellent vistas across the bay. Watching the sunset, cold beer in hand, I thought life couldn’t get much better.

 

4 September - Marmaris – Mugla – 54 kilometres

Again, the day was a scorcher, and the mercury hovered around 46 degrees C. We churned our way up and over the mountains to Mugla. The heat and hills made exhausting riding, but the route is blessed with picturesque views. The small community of Ula was reached around midday, and where I decided to get a haircut, something that turned out an interesting affair. No one spoke English, and all communication was done in sign language.

Burent, a cyclist from Mugla, met us along the way and led us into Mugla and through the old part of town, where we were offered tea and a bike repair service. The old quarter of Muğla is home to cobbled streets and houses dating from the 18th and 19th centuries, many of which were restored. These houses typically had courtyards and double-shuttered doors as well as chimneys.

Camping was at the public swimming pool, a first for me, and a place that came had a lovely green lawn and more than enough shower facilities to accommodate everyone.

 

5 September - Mugla – Koycegiz – Dalyan - 75 kilometres

Burent was there at 8h00 and led us out of the village and along rural roads through forests towards Köyceğiz. Koycegiz lake is joined to the Mediterranean Sea by a natural channel known as the Dalyan Delta. Our early arrival left enough time to catch a boat across the lake to popular Dalyan and Turtle Beach. The entire area was declared a wildlife sanctuary, and a boat made easy exploring. We swam at Turtle Beach but never saw any turtles. The ancient harbour of Caunos, had tombs carved into the rock high on the cliff face, was even more fascinating.

We camped at Dalyan, where the rest of the evening was spent on a timber deck drinking wine.

 

6 September - Dalyan – Fethiye (Oludeniz) – 75 kilometres

Baltic Cycles was a fun group. During the day, each did their own thing and arrived at the camp in their own time. Most cyclists were Polish and spoke limited English; only Bob from Scotland and Saline from New Zealand spoke English. Talking to them was thus easiest. Ella, from Poland, was lovely and managed by using sign language and a dictionary. Cycling was seldom without stopping to devour a Turkish pancake or Gozleme, a savoury flatbread smothered with various fillings.

Our path led along the Turquoise Coast, a beautiful ride and stunning views of historic Fethiye and its Amyntas Rock Tombs.

 

7 September – Fethiye – Patara

The Turkish were exceptionally hospitable and generous and often stopped to offer lifts, tea or watermelon. The previous night, and following a few Vodkas, it was decided to see how easy it would be to hitch a ride. In the morning, we split into pairs and set off. Bob and I teamed up and, in no time at all, got a lift. The day passed quickly as we got into all sorts of vehicles. These mainly were driven by using only one hand while the other held a cell phone or hung out the car window.

 

8 September - Kas – Olympus – 90 kilometres

The route between Kas and Olympus was immensely mountainous, but the scenery was so impressive we hardly noticed. The ride was littered with swimming spots and the day flew by. Turkey is easily one of the most interesting countries one can visit. Not because of the food, people’s friendliness, or even the magical Mediterranean coast but its history. From the ancient runes of Göbekli Tepe dating to 9130–8800 BC to the massive heads of Gods at Nemrut Dağ, dating to 69–34 BC.

A day in Olympus revealed the ruins of an ancient city scattered about en route to the beach. Many moons ago around 43 AD Olympus was a massive and important city and harbour. In 78 BC, the Romans, captured Olympus after a victory at sea and by the 15th century Olympus had been abandoned. Today, it has a hippy vibe, a lovely beach blessed with crystal clear blue water, and a mountain backdrop.

 

9 September – Olympus

An additional day was spent in Olympus, relaxing on the beach or cushions on a timber deck. By evening a short walk led up the mountain to where dozens of small fires constantly burn from vents in the rocks on the side of the hill. The fires are fuelled by gas emissions and have been burning for at least 2500 years.

 

10 September - Olympus – Antalya – 90 kilometres

Ninety kilometres further was historical Antalya, established in 200 BC and bound to sport more impressive ruins. The city thrived under Roman rule and left a monument like the impressive Hadrian’s Gate, built in honour of the Roman emperor Hadrian, who visited Antalya in 130. The Hıdırlık Tower is another landmark believed constructed by the ruling Roman Empire in the second century CE.

 

11-12 September - Antalya – Side – 74 kilometres

The following day, we ambled along the coast toward the ancient port town of Side, known for its beaches and Roman ruins dating to Antony and Cleopatra’s time. One couldn’t help but stroll the ruins of the 2nd-century Antique Theater, which seated up to 15,000. By then, we were all “ruined out” and didn’t explore much- except lounging about doing as little as possible.

 

13 September – Side – Alanya, Turkey – Girne, Cyprus - By ferry

After our last excellent Turkish breakfast (a basket of bread, tomatoes, cucumber and olives followed by a glass of ice-cold ayran), we biked onto the Alanya harbour, from where ferries departed to Cyprus - a 4-hour boat ride away. I left the Baltic Cycle group as they headed towards the Greek side of the island. Greece and Turkey shared Cyprus and I stayed on the Turkish side as getting a visa to visit Greece was practically impossible. 

007 CYCLE TOURING BULGARIA

 

By Eddie Carter

BULGARIA

507 Kilometres – 9 Days

17 August – 26 August 2007

MAP

PHOTOS

 

 

17 August – Oltenita, Romania - Silistra, Bulgaria – 85 kilometres

Following a breakfast of fresh tomatoes and paprika from Peter’s garden, we hurried to the Calarasi border, before the veggies kicked in. This time a ferry operated across the Danube river towards Silistra. As can be expected, I was apprehensive about my Romanian Visa dilemma. By then, I was in the country for 20 days instead of the two days indicated on my visa. I didn’t say anything simply handed over my passport to border officials. They disappeared behind a screen. Later, they reappeared and returned my passport, all without a single word, I was relieved, to say the least.

I could tell straight away communication in Bulgaria would be an even bigger problem. Bulgarian is a Southern Slavic language using the Cyrillic alphabet. Bulgarian was further the first Slavic language to be written. A more modern version was standardised following Bulgaria’s independence in 1878. More confusing was a single nod of the head indicated “no” while shaking the head side to side, which indicated agreement. I can assure you that that isn’t an easy thing to become used to. I first discovered this behaviour enquiring about an abode. Again, the head’s side-to-side movement clearly indicated “No” and as I gathered my belongings, the lady produced the room key. I looked at her confused as she had, merely seconds earlier, indicated the hotel had no accommodation available (or so I thought).

 

18 August - Silistra -Balchik - 136 kilometres

Bulgaria measures 110,994 square kilometres roughly the same size as Malawi, a country I consider small. Eddie and I headed towards Balchik a Black Sea coastal town and seaside resort. The town’s location along the shores of the Black Sea made it a simple choice. Our chosen route led 136 kilometres through farmlands, cornfields and past vast fields of sunflowers. We slinked into Balchik late merely to discover the town had no camping. A further fifteen-kilometre cycle north brought us to Kavarna with camping at the lake’s shores. The place was lovely. No time was wasted submerging our sweat-soaked bodies in the lukewarm waters of the Black Sea, pure bliss following a long day on the bicycle.

 

19 August - Kavarna

The following day was spent at the beach. Where we again ran into the Baltic Cycle group, we encountered in Bucharest. It became a fun night of drinking and trying to communicate as almost everyone in the group spoke Polish and no English.

At first, I thought the Black Sea was a lake, but upon closer inspection, the map revealed a connection to the ocean via The Bosphorus Strait. The waters of the Black Sea first flow into the Sea of Marmara, which is in turn connected to the Mediterranean via the Strait of the Dardanelles. The Black Sea is a massive body of water measuring 436400 kilometres2, and I was surprised to learn it reaches a depth of more than 2000 meters in places.

 

20 August - Kavarna - Kancija via Verna - 96 kilometres

The next day we resumed our ride south in the direction of the Turkish border. Finding one’s way turned out a tad tricky as nearly all the signboards were in Hungarian. Nevertheless, a campsite in Verna was located. Albeit basic, the camp was a well-located one at a decent beach. Hence, we ran into Baltic cycles as they were searching out the most inexpensive camping. It again became a great night with these cyclists, who could party as hard as they cycled. The restaurant owner invited us over to sample Rakia, a strong fruit brandy, as well as homemade wine. I surmised the alcohol was offered to help tolerate the mosquito-infested campsite.

 

21 August – Kamcija

A day of leisure was spent shooting the breeze with the other cyclists at the beach. It seemed communication improved in direct relation to the amount of Vodka consumed and they fast became good friends.

 

22 August - Kamcija - Nesebar - 104 kilometres

We were by then well into our familiar routine of camping, packing up and cycling to the next place to do the same. At the campground in Nesebar, was a 70-year-old German gentleman pushing a bike and trailer around the world. He started a year prior to meeting him in Germany and was still going strong. His bicycle had no pedals, meaning he couldn’t cycle even if he wanted.

So good was the campsite, and so much fun was had in Nesebar two days were spent in Nesebar.

 

24-25 August - Nesebar - Yuk Camping - 96 kilometres

Good thing the Baltic Cycle group told us where they intended to camp as Yuk camping turned out to be one of the best in the area. En route, Pomorie and Sozopol made good places to swim as the weather was boiling and an excellent way to cool off.

The others moved on, but I spent the day at the beach trying to rid myself of my terrible cycling tan.

 

26 August - Yuk Camping - Border – 75 kilometres

Bulgaria is a country with a diverse terrain encompassing the Black Sea coastline and a mountainous interior. Once away from the coast, the road became extremely hilly. Being August, and thus mid-summer, most days were sweltering, making challenging riding. Flies were an added problem and buzzed in hordes around our heads, strangely reminding us of biking in Ethiopia.

Shortly before the Turkish border Eddie and I pedalled into a small village to pick up refreshments but decided to stay. Unfortunately, the village had no campsite or accommodation. Still, we were directed to the hospital, which doubled as a guesthouse.

 

27 August – Bulgarian Border – Kirklareli, Turkey – 50 kilometres

I’ve overnighted in unusual places but never in a hospital, and I thought it necessary to check that I still had all my organs before leaving. Once across the border we headed to the nearest town and bike shop. Eddie’s bicycle rim was buckled to such an extent, that cycling became impossible. Turkish people are some of the world’s kindest, and while waiting, we were offered tea, watermelon, as well as coffee. The rim took longer than envisaged to repair. It was raining when all was done, and we opted for accommodation in Kirklareli.

006 CYCLE TOURING ROMANIA

ROMANIA

959 Km – 19 Days

30 June – 17 August 2007

MAP

 PHOTOS

 

30 July – Szeget, Hungary – Arad, Romania – 78 kilometres

Eddie and I departed Szeget powered by a stiff tailwind that became a near gale force crosswind, making it challenging riding. The road was further congested by trucks and heavy traffic and I feared for my life. Upon arrival at the border, I found my Hungarian visa wasn’t what I’d envisaged, but 2 x 10-day visas (where did that come from?). I thus overstayed and following being shunted back and forth from building to building; I was eventually allowed to leave. Phew!

I was immensely excited to see Romania. It finally felt I was on my way and since a child, I was intrigued by gipsies and understood there were still real gipsies in Romania. Add to that the mystery of Dracula’s castle and place names like Transylvania and I couldn’t wait to explore.

As always in a foreign country, the language remained a significant obstacle, everything (as expected) was in Romanian, and truly little English was spoken.

Arad was reached late and searching the campsite indicated on the map revealed only an abandoned field. By then, it wasn’t simply raining but also dark, and we weakened at the sight of a pension.

 

31 July - Arad – Bârzava – 60 kilometres

Arad was a bustling town, sporting many old buildings, which for the most part appeared to need TLC. Fifty years of communism left its mark. There were numerous apartment blocks, all very unattractive and in a state of poor repair. Arad further appeared an industrial town and a transport hub.

Countries vary tremendously, and just as one became used to the how-where-and-when of one, it’s time to cross the border, where everything is vastly different. Suddenly, campsites were few and far between. Instead, budget accommodation was found at truck stops, who typically served inexpensive food and offered basic rooms.

 

1 August - Barzava – Deva – 100 kilometres

In the morning, I fixed the slow puncture that had been giving trouble for some time and then made our way in the direction of Barzava. The countryside was intriguing and dotted by small communities, real-life gipsies complete with horse carts and elderly ladies dressed in black. It reminded me of something from a forgotten era. However, the gipsies were a tad disappointing as they weren’t dressed like the gipsies I’d in mind. Think long, bright flowery skirts, blouses adorned by gold coins and headscarves.

Cycling was challenging and sometimes downright dangerous as the traffic was hectic and the main road jam-packed by trucks of all shapes and sizes. Nevertheless, the rural villages were quiet, and residents found us as different as we found them. Generally, communities only had basic facilities. Water was collected from a communal well and farmers worked the field by hand. Filling our water bottles resulted in stopping, lowering the bucket into the well and then bringing the full bucket up using a pulley system.

Overnighting was in Deva, situated on the left bank of the Mures River and dominated by the ruins of a citadel perched atop a hill.

 

2 August- Deva - Geoagiu Băi – 27 kilometres

Departing Deva was by following the tremendously busy and poorly maintained main road, making a nerve-wracking ride. At the soonest opportunity, we turned off onto a smaller path. A sign pointed towards a Roman thermal bath, and as it was a mere 12 kilometres down the drag, I thought it worth exploring. Geoagiu Bai was a small but lively town where camping was in someone’s backyard amongst chickens and dogs. The only facility was a rudimentary long-drop as a toilet.

 

3 August - Geoagiu Băi – Blaj – 91 kilometres

The following morning, we proceeded along a dirt track, past numerous small villages, farmlands, cornfields and even vineyards. The countryside was scenic, as the route twisted and turned over wooded mountains and across scenic rivers.

 

4-5 August - Blaj - Făgăraș – 135 kilometres

It wasn’t long before finding ourselves firmly in the heart of Transylvania. The name conjured up images of scary-looking villagers, wooden crosses and howling wolves. This mental image wasn’t entirely incorrect. We often encountered askew graves and wooden crosses where bunches of garlic hung from gates and doors. I was excited as a child to be in Romania and couldn’t wait to go exploring. The country offered fantastic riding through densely wooded mountains, medieval towns and fortresses associated with legends.

Fagaras didn’t disappoint, located at the foothills of the Făgăraș Mountains, it was home to the Făgăraș Fortress.

 

6 August - Făgăraş – Bran - 63 kilometres

Before getting underway, we attempted to find breakfast but at 9.30 am, it seemed too early to eat but not too early for beer. Individuals were drinking beer at pavement restaurants but at enquiring about food, the reply was, “Don’t know at this hour”. The ride was beautiful through heavily wooded mountains and along raging rivers. Upon arrival in Bran we anticipated finding clues to Dracula’s Castle but merely found the ominous-sounding “Vampire Camping”.

 

7 August - Bran

The following day was spent in Bran where a visit to Bran Castle revealed its real history. I learned the castle was constructed in 1388 and built atop a cliff offering panoramic views of the nearby hills. The castle served as a customs office and a fortress and was used to stop the Ottoman Empires expansion. Although the castle had many owners, it did indeed belong to Vlad Dracul or Vlad the Impaler, the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s vampire named Dracula.

 

8 August - Bran – Campulung – 59 kilometres

Eddie and I biked over the scenic Carpathian Mountains via Bran Pass. A stunning ride and the dividing line between Transylvania and Valencia. The language remained a problem. Not solely did I buy yeast instead of butter but a fountain pen without ink instead of a ballpoint pen and cream instead of yoghurt. The learning curve was indeed a steep one. Towards the end of the day, accommodation was at a pension in historic Campulung. Virtually all the places encountered had a long and fascinating history. Campulung was no different and had a multitude of beautiful buildings dating to the 13^th century.

 

9 August - Campulung – Targovista – 65 kilometres

The route towards Taragovista, home to the Chindia Tower built by Vlad Dracula in the 15^th century came with a brilliant descent. Reaching Targovista was early, but we considered it better to overnight instead of continuing to Bucharest still about 80 kilometres away.

“Pension King” became home that night but it turned out not much of a palace as the name indicated, as it was situated in the back streets next to a scrapyard.

 

10 August - Targovista – Bucharest - 98 kilometres

Biking into Bucharest was hair-raising, as is the case with nearly all cities, and came with horrendous traffic, especially on a Friday afternoon. However, a helpful taxi driver gave us directions to a campsite, located on the city's opposite side. Unable to find it, we popped into an internet cafe and found the campground. This meant retracing our steps to where we came from. The campsite was lovely but mozzie infested - at least it had plenty of trees.

Another look at my passport revealed my Romanian visa was granted for two days (valid for three months) and not three months as envisaged. There wasn’t a great deal I could do and intended to deal with it once at the border. Lesson learned, always check your visa. Who gives a visa for two days, anyhow?

 

11 August – Bucharest

Casa Alba Campsite had a convenient location and we did the usual, shopping, laundry and a tad of sightseeing. Included in our wonderings was a visit to the city’s iconic landmark, the massive communist-era Parliament building with its 1100 rooms, said the world’s second-largest building. Far scarier was we learned more than 10000 people were bitten by stray dogs in Bucharest each year.

Bucharest is a fun city with a long and fascinating history and a crazy mix of communist-era, neo-classical and art deco buildings predominantly adorned by oyster shell-shaped canopies. The hundreds of grey high-rise blocks of flats from the communist era were of particular interest.

 

12-15 August – Bucharest

I used the time to apply for both my Bulgarian and Turkish visas. Upon returning from the city, I found the campsite invaded, by what looked like hundreds of little tents. It turned out the well-known Baltic Cycle group, on tour from the Baltics to Cypress. They mostly spoke Polish, except for one Brit and one lady from New Zealand.

At the Turkish Embassy, I was informed a visa application had to be made in my home country. After phoning my sister Amanda in SA, she returned with the news that the Turkish Embassy in SA promised to contact the Embassy and I should try again in the morning. The next day I returned to the Turkish Embassy, and by 5 pm, I’d my visa. Hallelujah! I further phoned the Bulgarian Embassy and, yes, the visa was granted, and I could pick it up the following day.

 

16 August - Bucharest – Oltenita – 98 kilometres

The next morning, I was at the Hungarian Embassy at ten o’clock sharp, where I found a crowd of people milling about. There seemed no rhyme or reason in the procedures. After a while, an official pointed at me and took me to the front of the queue, where I was handed my visa. A 15-day visa was granted fair enough and by noon Eddie and I were on our way to the border. Instead of taking the highway to Giurgiu, we opted to cycle to Oltenita via a much smaller path. Still, we found no immigration office as indicated on our map. It seemed we couldn’t get out of Romania.

In the process, we met Peter, a Romanian chap, who invited us to stay at his house, a tiny 2-room wooden shack without a bathroom or kitchen. One could, however, take a wee in the garden amongst the chickens. But, unfortunately, I couldn’t quite figure out what to do about the bowel movements.

 

17 August – Oltenita, Romania - Silistra, Bulgaria – 85 kilometres

After a breakfast of fresh tomatoes and paprika from Peter's garden, we hurried to the Calarasi border, before the veggies kicked in. Luckily a ferry operated across the Danube river to Silistra, Bulgaria. As can be expected, I was apprehensive about my Romanian Visa dilemma. By then, I was in the country for 20 days instead of the two days indicated on my visa. I didn’t say anything simply handed over my passport to border officials. They disappeared behind a screen and later reappeared and returned my passport. All without a single word. I was relieved, to say the least.

I could tell straight away communication in Bulgaria would be an even bigger problem as Bulgarian uses the Cyrillic script. Add to that Bulgarians nod their heads for no and shake it sideways for yes—I anticipated a few misunderstandings. 

005 CYCLE TOURING HUNGARY

 

By Eddie Carter

5 HUNGARY

810 Kilometres – 19 Days

11 July – 30 July 2007

MAP

PHOTOS 

11-12 July – London, UK – Budapest, Hungary

Our flight touched down in Budapest early on 11 July. From the start, I was smitten with this beautiful city with its plethora of gracious old buildings, cobbled streets and views of the mighty Danu River. I instantly understood why it’s referred to as “the Capital of Architecture”. To this day, it remains one of my favourite cities as it is beautiful, culturally rich and the people immensely friendly.

Hungary is the land of paprika, cabbage and sausage, and the food was delicious and the beer good. In fact, nearly all the food in Hungary includes paprika in some form, from the homey goulash to the Porkolt (meat stew) and Halaszle (fisherman’s soup).

An additional day was spent exploring the city’s famous attractions and buildings. First thing in the morning Eddie and I sauntered across the chain bridge, the first permanent connection to span the Danube between Buda and Pest. Once on the opposite bank, a funicular took people to the castle district and Buda Castle. Finally, we strolled towards the Fisherman’s Bastion with its panoramic view of the city, from where we feasted our eyes upon Budapest’s magnificent architecture.

If today, I would’ve lingered longer, but as was my nature, I’d bees in my bonnet and wanted to move along. As is the case with nearly all “new” cycle tourers, I was destination minded. It took me years until I rid myself of the habit and could enjoy the touring part of cycle touring, which, in my mind, is what cycle touring is all about.

 

13 July – Budapest – Esztergom – 80 kilometres

Following a day of exploring, we cycled out of Budapest. At first, our path followed the famed Danu River past vast fields of sunflowers and timeless villages. Then, our chosen path spat us out in Esztergom’s ancient town, where the day’s ride ended. However, there was no missing the city as a massive basilica (the 3rd largest church in Europe) dominated the city. It sits atop a hill above this bustling town and overlooks the Danube River.

Esztergom’s history goes back many years. The town was established around 972 AD and was the first Hungarian King’s birth and coronation place. Esztergom was further the capital of Hungary till the 13th century. As a result, there is an abundance of old buildings of both Royal and religious nature.

 

14 July - Esztergom – Győr – 95 kilometres

The route between Esztergom and Gyor was picturesque as it ran along the Danube through countless settlements. In these communities, we filled water bottles from wells using hand pumps. The ride led past vast fields of sunflowers, making a pretty picture against a cloudless sky.

 

15 July - Győr and surrounds – 80 kilometres

As the campsite in Gyor was comfortable, we stayed two days, allowing exploring the countryside. It became a fun day cycling past tiny hamlets, farmlands and more fields of sunflowers.

 

16 July - Győr – Papa – 58 kilometres

The next day our route left the river and headed toward Lake Balaton. Being mid-summer, the weather was sweltering. Again, the friendliness of the people impressed us. An older man who spoke no English must’ve noticed us suffering in the intense heat. He promptly invited us in, offered us ice cream, and gave us two slices of smoked meat; how kind of him.

Papa is a historical town with an ensemble of old buildings. The entire town centre is today a protected area. Papa is also famed for its thermal baths, but the heat was too intense and instead, we opted for a cold beer on a shady veranda in the historic part of town.

 

17-18 July - Papa – Balatonfüred – 64 kilometres

Eddie and I left lovely Papa in the morning to cycle the final stretch towards the lake. The day was another blistering one and relatively hilly. I’d no idea the mercury could rise to such levels in Hungary. Balatonfured is the oldest of the towns situated on Lake Belton’s shores. It is another city renowned for its spas, but this was no time to visit spas.

 

19 July - Balatonfüred – Badacsony – 48 kilometres

The oppressing heat made riding exhausting, and we could only manage a half-day of biking. Upon reaching Lake Balaton, drenched in sweat, we called it quits and set up camp at Badacsony, a small village with a population of barely 2000. The lake was immensely touristy, and the beaches were littered with campsites that made easy overnighting. I wasted no time diving into the lukewarm water of the lake. Sunset was a perfect time to sample the region’s good wine.

 

20 July - Badacsony – Fonyód – 56 kilometres

Packing up was at leisure as there was no rush to go anywhere. However, the heat remained debilitating. It took practically the entire day to cycle the short distance to the resort town of Fonyod. The road made its way along the lake’s shores and the heat made cycling in bathing suits and stopping numerous times to swim and drink beer. Finally, the day’s ride finished in Fonyod, where camp was on the lake shores. Once the tents were pitched, we could enjoy the town’s well-known mineral water (bottled nearby) before moving on to their renowned wine.

 

21 July - Fonyód – Balatonszemes – 32 kilometres

The next morning, we emerged to a tad of a breeze, making the unrelenting heat almost bearable. Then, unfortunately, the wind picked up, which made grinding into the wind to the next campsite. But once in Balatonszemes, the wind subsided, and we were back in paradise.

The campsites, 20 all around the lake, were well equipped with access to the lake, shops, bars, restaurants, and loads of entertainment, especially for children, including waterslides, games, cable skiing, and paddle boats.

 

22 July - Balatonszemes – Siófok – 32 kilometres

I thought Lake Belatan was the closest place to heaven. Blue skies, lukewarm water and no wind, made the place swarming with tourists. The lakeshore was extremely shallow and excellent for floating in its lukewarm waters. Shops, restaurants and bars were scattered about, adding to a great holiday atmosphere.

 

23-24 July – Siófok

Siofok meant we’d cycled around the entire lake and thus spent the day lounging around and enjoying the sun. Siofok is the largest town along the lake, with a beach stretching nearly 20 kilometres, making it an extremely popular holiday destination.

 

25-26 July - Siofok – Budapest – 110 kilometres

Once around the lake, we returned to Budapest to collect my Romanian Visa. Again, it turned out a day of easy riding. We thus slinked into Budapest in good time, where it took weaving through the traffic to find accommodation. The following day I collected my visa and we once again strolled Budapest’s cobbled streets.

 

27 July - Budapest – Kesckemet – 90 kilometres

With passport in hand, we cycled out of Budapest in the direction of Romania. The ride was a pleasant and relaxed one, in perfect cycling weather. Kecskemet sported an immense and beautiful City hall and an extremely convenient campsite in the centre of town, signalling the end of the day’s ride.

 

28-29 July - Kesckemet – Szeged – 65 kilometres

The way to Szeged was another enjoyable day of riding along a flat road. Szeged, home of the paprika, had a smattering of old buildings of which the Saint Nicolas Serbian Church, built in 1781, is the oldest. Szeged further had a great location along the Tisza river with an excellent campsite and a thermal bath. Hungary is well known for its thermal baths. At the town of Szeged, we set up camp and stayed two days, floating in the warm water of their well-known thermal springs before crossing into Romania.

 

30 July – Szeget, Hungary – Arad, Romania – 78 kilometres

Departing Szeget was with a stiff tailwind which became a near gale force crosswind, making it challenging riding, especially with the many trucks and heavy traffic. Upon arrival at the border, I found my Hungarian visa wasn’t what I’d envisaged, but 2 x 10-day visas, (where did that come from?). Therefore, I overstayed and after attempting sign language and being shunted back and forth from building to building; I was eventually allowed to leave. Phew!

I was immensely excited to see Romania. It finally felt like I was getting into my stride. Since childhood, I’ve been intrigued by gipsies and understood there were still genuine gipsies in Romania. Add the mystery of Dracula’s castle and place names like Transylvania and I was virtually bursting out of my skin.

As always in a foreign country, the language remained a considerable obstacle, everything (as expected) was in Romanian, and truly little English was spoken.

Our arrival in Arat was late, searching for the camping spot indicated on the map. Still, all that remained of the campsite was an abandoned field. By then, it was raining and dark, and we weakened at the sight of a pension.