Cycling from Nuremburg to Frankfurt

Oct 23-28 Cycling to Frankfurt

My day in Nuremburg was mostly occupied with logistics to support my final bike ride of this trip.  I wanted to cycle from Nuremburg to Frankfurt.  So I needed to talk to someone who could recommend a good route and get the appropriate maps.   I also needed to get a German sim card, some more Euros and a better pair of gloves for cold and possibly wet weather.  I got little good help from the hostel, the first bike shop I found or the tourist information centre.  But I was sent to a map store where the guy had all of the answers.  He immediately said the only sane route was to follow the Regnitz River to Bamberg where it entered the River Main which went all the way Frankfurt (am Main).  There were bike routes the whole way.  We went over the Radtourenkartes (Bike Touring Maps) and picked out the two that I would need.  When I made the decision to head to Nuremburg for my final bike segment I had little doubt that the German bike network would let me down.  Hopefully I was right. 

By noon I had all of my things sorted out and was able to walk around the completely walled Altstadt and picked up a little more history from the castle museum.  Naturally all of the same characters I have met in Romania, Hungary and Slovakia come to play here as well.  I added Charlemagne and The Holy Roman Empire (the First German) to my researches.  I saw the loose collection of German principalities come together in 1871 to form the Second German Empire.   The Third (Reich) we don’t need to visit much although with more time in Nuremburg I might have done so.  I liked Nuremburg.

Oct 24 to Eltmann

I was out in the drizzle at 7:30, still fairly dark.  It only took about ten minutes to get onto the bike trail following the Pegnitz when soon flowed into the Regnitz.  There was a steady stream of bike commuters coming up the trail into the town centre.  I missed the best photos in this rush to clear town worrying about whether I was on the right trail and making good progress.  The commuter traffic lasted through the connected town of Furth and then I was kind of on my own.  I would see the odd local rider but in the whole way to Frankfurt only one other bike tourer. 

These bike trails are obviously mostly for local traffic, which creates a bit of a problem for me.  The trails and junctions are very well marked, but the places on the signs are mostly just the local villages, which often don’t mean much to me.  I am usually headed on down the way with my intermediate places 20 to 50 km away.  Those are never mentioned.  If I need to confirm which path to take I need to get into my map to find the little villages and pick the appropriate branch.  This always means stopping losing up a few minutes, and I don’t always get it right.  About 30 km out of Nuremburg the trail turned onto a canal that went dead straight for another 30km, and so I could sail along on that pretty well. 

Another problem with these river side bike trails is that they miss the villages and so I went all morning without a coffee snack break.  I left the trail near Bamberg for a stand up coffee and chocolate bar in a service station, not the kind of break I needed.  It was drizzly again as I entered Bamberg, no idea from which direction.  I went into a Chinese Restaurant for a buffet, to get my GPS working and to find a place to stay.  I couldn’t find anything very reasonable and it was still just after noon, and so I picked out a place in Eltmann about 20 km down the Main. 

I arrived at my pension, on a lonely side road in the village at about 3:00.  No one was there and so I walked back into the centre where a woman walked me to the home of the pension owner.  We were able to connect by phone to find out it would be 5:00 before I could get in.  So I headed for a pub, where I had dinner and I think a beer or two.

Oct 25,26 Wurzburg

Getting a 7:30 start is a bit harder each day.  The sun is still not actually up and so I am pushing it a bit.  There is always some car road riding to do and so I often need a tail light on.  The Main valley is a lot wider than the Regnitz and not as pretty so I just wheel on down the way.  I don’t take many pictures but the fall colours are always there and often a barge to add interest. 

On this day I am taking the first of two cut-offs.  The Main is very serpentine and some of the loops are very large.  Just after noon I headed up out of the river bottom to take a cut-off that would save me about 15 km, allowing me to get into Wurzburg early.  At least that was the theory.  The route I chose climbed quite a bit, and then meandered around for about 40 km, that I turned into 55 km.  It went through villages and across fields, many in harvest. 

On these cut-offs the trail often heads through little forests where the trail is almost always fine gravel, now covered with leaves. The weather also gives me some nice moody skies for the few pictures I take.  All very nice, but with the route finding errors and the climbing I got into Wurzburg I am sure later than If I had stayed in the river valley.

To kill a little time I booked myself into Wurzburg for two nights. Again I stayed in a hostel and it was almost as nice as the one in Nuremburg.  I wandered around the town the next day visiting all of the sites.  Initially it was very foggy creating a nice pastel cast to things. 

Still, I was not as taken with Wurzburg in part because my own idiocy.  I was on an old car-free bridge, head in the air looking for a picture and tripped on a curb I hadn’t noticed, fell and broke one of my favourite camera lenses.  This caused a couple hour funk until I went and got my back-up camera and headed up to the big castle on the hill.  A good hill climb fixes most things, in this case my attitude but not my lens.  The sun had arrived as I did the castle walk and then back down as I crossed the bridge that broke my lens a party seemed in progress.  But it was just people enjoying the sun with a glass of wine.  I joined in and gradually forgave the bridge and begrudgingly myself as well. 

Oct 27 Mondfeld

I was taking the second of my planned river cut-offs.  It was to cut off a much larger loop and so there was really no alternative, but my planned distance was fairly short.  My night time options came early on this day, which is great, but it does make for a potentially long final day on the bike.

It was raining when I hit the street, but since I hoped for a short day I sat in a bus shelter for half an hour and then set off when the rain turned to drizzle.  Immediately the longest climb of the day began. The road I was following left the Main to head into the hills.  Still climbing my route left the highway and turned onto a lovely gravel path through a small forest.  The sun came out brilliantly lighting the wet leaves scattered along the trail. 

At each junction on this day I stopped to make sure I made the right choice.  I missed a couple of times but checked myself in time that little extra distance was incurred.   The wind kept getting stronger and on the high grounds I was quite glad I didn’t have far on this day to go

Just after a backerie stop the up hills became down hills and before I knew it I was back on the Main Radweg for a 10 km run into Wertheim.  I had a long pleasant lunch and booked online a place a further 10 km down the way.   About half way there was road riding the other bike trail.  The wind got me in both and began to worry me about the longer day tomorrow.

I was staying in a real hotel and had some time to relax before coming down with my computer for dinner.  I sat working on my computer and watching You Tube until the owner’s body language hinted that he want to shut up the shop.

Oct 28 Final day into Frankfurt

The breakfast was very complete and so I headed out fully tanked up for the day.  I got away at 8:10, just as the light began to appear, trying to get as many kms in as possible before the wind picked up.  A rubbing began to appear and it took two times looking for the problem before I took all of my bags off for a closer look.  I had two broken spokes on the rear wheel and it was rubbing on the frame.  Luckily neither broken spoke was on the cog set side.  I cannot change those with the tools that I carry.  Having spare spokes made me feel a bit better but I was angry because I had heard the rubbing yesterday as I was getting to my hotel but didn’t look into it when I had lots of time to fix it.  Now I was losing valuable low wind time.  But I was on the way in twenty minutes with only a little fear that another spoke might go.

The first hour and some was heading mostly west which seemed to be where the wind was mostly coming from.  But it was hard to tell as the river did its bends and twists the wind seemed to follow it.  But then the generally direction headed mostly north and I stayed on the west side which means I did get quite a bit of protection, particularly when on the narrow bike paths.  It was the wind that worried more than the distance because I know how that can really kill my progress. 

I wasn’t stopping much as the day was cold and grey.  I got a few pictures but mostly I wanted to get on down the way before the wind became too bad.  As lunch time came closer I began to feel a bit better because I was getting up the road.  At two potential stops nothing materialized and so by the time I found a place I was getting quite close to Frankfurt.  Obviously riding into the wind darkens my attitude more than necessary.

When I came out of my lunch spot a road sign said Offenbach 17 km.  I estimated Offenbach was 10 km from Frankfurt.  Pretty good.  I headed back onto the river side bike trail.  After a bit I stopped at a junction in the trail and it indicated that I had come 12 km from my lunch spot and now had 18 km to Offenbach.  The tranquility of bike trail riding has its price to pay when you are trying to get somewhere.   My disappointment was heightened because of how tired I was from fighting the wind all day.  But I was close enough that I knew it would work out. 

Riding through the continuous city of Offenbach and Frankfurt seemed to go easier and before long the sky scrapers of Frankfurt began to appear and then I recognized the foot bridge that crossed from the town centre and would take me to my warm showers hosts Anne and Jan.  I stopped at a little trail side kiosk and had a hot coffee, the first since breakfast and a beer to celebrate my ride completion. 

Oct 28-30 Frankfurt

I had a nice easy time in Frankfurt.  I rode my bike into town each day and saw a few of attractions but mostly I visited with Anne and Jan who I introduced when I arrived at the beginning of this trip.  They have traveled and worked in various parts of the world and have become “warm showers” hosts because they meet other travelers.  I met some of their friends and we had conversations about travel and politics.  We also ate very well.  What a nice way of finishing a trip.

So this trip is done.  Tomorrow I will be on the plane. Thanks for joining me.  Until next venture.



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Bratislava, Prague

Oct 15-22 Bratislava, Prague

(The photos in this post are not meant to be representative of Bratislava nor of Prague.)

Two nights in Bratislava, four in Prague, with a four hour train ride between.  Both are capital cities, both have historic old towns and many interesting buildings and streets, both have a castle on a hill built in the 1200-1400 period that have been the domicile of kings and presidents.  But the scale is very different.  Old Bratislava is very small and the tourist trade while vibrant is very small.  Prague goes on forever and the tourists must be measured on any given day in the 100s of thousands.  I found ways of enjoying both places. 

I stayed in the heart of Bratislava’s old town and walked everywhere except when I cycled to the train station to buy my ticket and then the next day to catch the train.  My first venture was to walk up the hill to the castle where I got a little historical background for Slovakia.  The castle is enormous.  It has been very dilapidated and at one time consideration was given to destroying it.  Inside it is now refinished a glistening white to match its exterior.  And the views of the city are pretty nice.

In the old town it was very possible to walk around and get a good feeling for the layout in just the day and a half I spent there.  I did enjoy the streets and some of the street sculpture was fun.

In Prague I stayed out of the centre a ways and tried cycling but it was not much fun.  Cobblestone streets prevail, there is no appreciable bike infrastructure and the crowds at times were horrendous.  But the whole public transportation network; metro, trams, buses is free to the plus 70s provided they have cycled across Europe (the qualifier may not be accurate).   I walked a ton and used a lot or trams. 

There must be 100s of interesting streets, 1000s of historic buildings, and lots of significant tourist attractions.  Castle hill is an all-day outing.   It’s a great hike up and it is like a small town when there.   An enormous cathedral, one of the biggest castles anywhere, monasteries and streets where the commoners lived There are also no end of visitors, so go early. 

Charles Bridge is almost too touristy, but certainly worth going to, and close by is the Old town square with its magical clock.

The web will be filled with better pictures that the few I have included, but my main enjoyment was walking the streets, any of which have tons of interesting architecture. 

I went to Prague prepared to be disappointed by all of the tourist focused shtick, and it was certainly extreme in the three major tourist attraction areas.  But as I said the city goes on and on and is just as architecturally interesting in the many streets where Czechs are all you might see.  I never had a meal in a restaurant that had anything but Czechs to my eye.  It is truly one of the exceptional European cities.  I spent a lot of time not touristing just appreciating things.  I even saw a couple of very good basketball games thank to the remote location of my hotel. 

From Prague I took hopefully my last train ride to Nuremburg, where I took a day to prepare myself for cycling in Germany.  I hope to cycle to and then follow the River Main from here to Frankfurt for my flight home.

Posted in South East Europe | 3 Comments

Across Hungary

Oct 11-16, Across Hungary,

A good cycle from Timisoara to Szeged, though a bit long and hot, got me back into Hungary where I hoped to find cycle friendly roads.  I had to get cell connection again; my dependence on the smart phone mapping is now complete. In the evening, now committed to spending two nights in this attractive University town, I walked the three blocks in to the town centre and stumbled on an excellent restaurant.  It is always a lottery when you are just going by looks.  At any rate I was relaxed, looking forward to taking a day to get my cycle plans for Hungary together.  If I was heading off in the morning then I would be trying to make sure I had all of my act together. 

While sitting with an after meal coffee I decided to try my Hungarian sim card.  I had bought it just a month ago and had been under the impression that it would need to be renewed after 30 days.  It still worked.  Maybe it was just under the 30 days.  The next day, at Vodafone they told me I had lots of capacity left and that I had a year before it lapsed.  Another language goof.  Had I known I could have switched the sim cards at the border and ride to my accommodation easily. Oh well, we live and learn, I hope. 

Mostly I spent the day on my bike riding around this pleasant town. Of course there is the large an impressive cathedral looking onto its big square called the Dom.  On one wall of the Dom is a musical clock that twice a day goes into action.  This one representing the University students going to class. 

One architectural interest in Szeged are the early 20 th century Art Nouveau buildings.  Like all cities of this size there are many attractive car free streets and street cafes.  I ate once at a student hangout.  It was semi-outside with couches and easy chairs; pizza and hamburgers were on the menu, but I had had a great Hungarian meal my first night here.

My potential route across Hungary was pretty straight forward, but I had lots of options along the way.  It was all made attractive in the first place by a five day nice weather forecast.  Nice except for the projected a NW wind. Naturally I am headed NW and will have to deal with it.

So Friday morning I got going at about 9:00 and my chosen roads out of town all had good wide bike ways.  Finally I headed off onto the small roads that were designated as bike friendly.  The head wind was apparent immediately and I was having a hard time getting any speed above 20 kph, a psychological factor for me.  But it was a nice ride anyway.  A few of the villages that I passed through had Halloween displays.  I stopped at a pastry place for a bite near noon, and then had to stop again 10 km later for another energy boost.  At about 75 km I looked for and found a panzio.  When I checked in the weather channel indicated a 19 kph wind with gusts to 32 kph.  It was the gusts that really sapped my energy.

My panzio had a fast food restaurant attached and I had a good time with the waitress and cook figuring out what I was going to eat.  They had no English and Hungarian has no similarity to English. So we resorted to our smart phones which got me some pretty good food.  Beer (surt) I never have trouble ordering. They were lots of fun.

The next morning, same wind forecast, I got away earlier, at 7:40.  The wind has been easiest in the morning.  So I had a pretty good morning.  The wind is always there, I just have to be satisfied going a bit slower.  This has been made a bit easier by the lovely fall colours.  My route, on minor roads goes though largely agricultural areas but with large patches of trees that sometimes provide a little wind shadow for me.   There are numerous opportunities to stop for fall pictures.  I am amazed that there are still lots of roadside flowers to add to my interest.

I am not seeing any interesting birds, I think in part because of the wind, but there is still some harvesting of corn going on.


Near noon I crossed the Danube near Dunafoldvar, about 75 km below Budapest.  Part of my route strategy had been to stay away from Budapest but to be close enough that if I wished to change gears and head to the big city I could do that pretty easily.

I considered stopping for the night at the Danube, there seemed to be a number of panzios, but it was too early.  I knew that there was going to be an accommodation challenge ahead but the wind was not as bad as yesterday.  I found my small road and headed on.  As it turned out none of my hopes for early accommodation worked and I ended up in Szekesfeheryar, more than 50 tough kms later. 

The next day was Sunday and so I started out on a bit larger road, hoping to go a bit faster.  I was hoping the traffic would not be as heavy as normal.  It was fine and so I stayed with it for the day.  The wind never got much above about 10 kph.  My 100 km put me into Gyor at about 1:30, and this was after a lovely lunch just 8 km outside of town.  Gyor is on the Danube  and the EV6 that I came down on.  The Danube heads mostly east through Austria, Slovakia and the top part of Hungary.  It then turns south at Eszertgom though Budapest.  I have just cut off that turn, missing Budapest.  I checked into the same place in Gyor that I stayed in on the way down the Danube.  It is a bit expensive compared to what I have been paying in the last month but the food was great.  I need one more really good Hungarian meal.

I did spent the afternoon walking around the old town and found a nice tower to climb.  Another lovely old town.

In the morning I found the road out of Gyor with a roadside bike trail that EV6 follows.  So I was back on the route I came down on a month ago.  I would follow EV6 for the rest of the day.  It was another lovely fall riding day, the temperature got up to about 22.  I went through five or six small towns and one larger one before leaving Hungary into Slovakia as the bike route jumped up onto the dike along the Danube.

Immediately I saw some swans which I had not seen since leaving the river.  The wide bike trail on top of the dike also brought out the cyclists, walkers and roller bladers.  I only saw a few with full panniers but there are still a few of us out there.   If possible the fall is even more impressive along the dike.

Bratislava Castle rises high above the river marking the end of this phase of my trip.  The cycle across Hungary was wonderful, even with a headwind.  I will now spend some time in Bratislava and likely head to Prague by train for some old capital city time.  

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Bucharest and back to Hungary

Oct 8-11, Bucharest, Out of Romania

Established now in the little Vila11 near Gare de Nord in Bucharest, I came down at about 7:30 looking for some coffee.  This little hostel is run by a Canadian woman who has lived in Bucharest for twenty years.  There are all sorts of nice things about her place.  She puts on breakfast and even though it doesn’t get going until 9:00 it is a nice change for me to have people to eat and visit with. 

I made some instant coffee and talked a bit with a cyclist couple from Odessa on their way home. They were getting their bikes ready to catch the same train to Galati that I had taken a few days ago.  It was still raining hard and so their panniers were wrapped in a kind of home-made rain cover.  They only had a few minutes in the rain so they would probably work fine.  When they left a couple from St Petersburg began getting their bikes ready to take on the plane for their flight home. 

At 9:00, the other cyclists gone, I moved into the little breakfast room and began with coffee.  Pancakes soon arrived.  As I was eating a Romanian couple living now in Stuttgart came down and were preparing to leave on a train as well.    I shared my tale of woe regarding not being able to get on trains.  They were surprised and asked where I was trying to get to; Timisoara, I replied.  They were heading to the train station and indicated they would look into it, and took my cell number. 

I started to get ready to head out for the day, still worried and mentally working out all of my alternatives.  At the top of my list was to look into a bus to Timisoara, but I was seriously considering boxing up my bike and taking a long international train or even flying back to Germany.  At any rate, today, a rainy Sunday, I was going to head into the centre looking for the National Museum and hoping for some clearing later in the afternoon.  A text arrived from my Romanian friends giving a train number that would take my bike to Timisoara.   I finished fussing and within half an hour had a train ticket for me and my bike to Timisoara on Tuesday.  Thinking about it I had probably gone to the wrong ticket window, asked the wrong things, got a tenant who had a bad day….Whatever, the critical worry gone, I could now appreciate my two days in Bucharest. 

There is a pretty good subway system in Bucharest; I think about four lines.  I bought a 5 lei ticket (less than $2) which was good for two rides which would get me into the centre and back again.  It was very easy to navigate, even considering that I had a two line run going each way.   

I got off the station that would give me a view of the mammoth Parliament buildings, one of the many Ceausescu projects that drove Romania into a downward tailspin that it is still fighting to recover from.  It was still raining too hard so I found the Romanian National Museum where I hoped to polish up some of my conceptions of Romanian history.  I was greeted by Trajan and a Dacian Wolf on the steps of the museum.  Unfortunately, two floors were closed for renovations and these contained all history since the Romans except for an extensive special display on WWI. I did enjoy the Roman displays, taken with how extensive their efforts were in this region.  There is a copy of Trajan’s column.  It is full size and has been dismembered with 125 bathroom sized segments spread around two floors.  The event on each segment was explained.  I have seen the original in Rome and the other copy in London but cannot remember being aware that most of the events depicted on the column were from Trajan’s campaigns in Dacia, hence the interest here. 

I did get some shots of the Parliament buildings and wandered around a lot of the old city.  Being such a bad day there were not many people on the extensive car free (i.e. café) strips.  I felt sorry for the young people huddled out of the rain with their menus trying to entice customers.  The gloominess was enhanced by the vestiges of the many years of communist architecture and the decimated economy that gutted much of the old and beautiful Bucharest.  Some of the old 19th century buildings survived, many seemingly occupied by banks; a few newer glass buildings are rising up, but the dozens of morbid apartment buildings left the predominant impression on me. 


I finished my Sunday with a pleasant hour in one of the most attractive bookstores I have been in.  The inside of an old building on one of the walking strips has been reworked to open up the four floors with books on the walls and the inside left clear as an atrium, with curving stairs connecting the floors.

Monday was clear and after finding a bike shop for a little work I cycled back to the centre, took a few more pictures, re-visited my book store and finished the day in Parkul Cismigu, a large park near the centre with swans, ducks and hundreds of people out absorbing vitamin C after many days of deprivation.  I had my meal of the day in Bucharest early, while still near the centre, so I didn’t have to find something attractive near the train station, although the offerings inside Gare de Nord in Bucharest are better than in most train stations.  In one store I filled up a shopping bag of drinks and snacks for the 13 hour train ride.

My train left at 10:00, and I was there at 9:30 hoping to get on early, as has happened more often than not.  On this day the train didn’t pull in until 9:50 and there seemed to be a lot of people milling around to get on.  So until I found which car I was on I was in a bit of a dither.   A young woman helped me wrestle my load up into the car.  It is three steep narrow steps and a good metre to heft things up.  Luckily there were very few people on this car.  Before the train left I removed my bags; I had planned to remove them before getting onto the car but it felt too rushed at the time.  There was a spot half-way along the car that was open seated, not the closed six seat compartments of the rest of the car.  The aisle was wider at this point. I settled in, my bags were all around me, my bike right there bungeed quite out of the way against a post.  I was kind of hogging five seats in this situation and so I sat there waiting for the conductor or other passengers to arrive and ask me to move.  For 13 hours this never happened and I was able to enjoy my time and the ride without worry about my accoutrements.

It was a beautiful sun filled day.  The train ambled along initially headed towards Transylvania.  There was snow on the mountains and the yellows of fall had accelerated their arrival since I had left just over a week ago.  Some of my best pictures of the trip were taken through the train window.  Why does it feel like cheating when I do that? It took three hours to get to Brasov and I had even recognized a few of the views from my castle tour with Dan.

As the day progressed I finished reading “Between the Woods and Water” by PL Fermor that I had been rationing since my trip began.  He finished this middle of his trilogy on his walk to Constantinople as he was leaving Romania to go into Bulgaria.  I am leaving to head back into Hungary so it is kind of appropriate.  I had also bought an ebook version of Dracula by Bram Stoker that had audio.  For many hours of this train day I sat gazing at the kaleidoscope slipping by the window as I listened to the band of intrepid Englishman chasing down their abominable foe. 

A word on why I am chose my escape to Germany route that I did.  I mentioned that I was greatly stressed by my trials of getting train passage for me and my bike.  Except for my initial train ride from Frankfurt to Regensburg and my almost city ride out of Budapest, all of my trains have been Romania and none have been across borders.  I have read about others having troubles in eastern countries as well and did not want to further complicate matters by heading into Bulgaria or Serbia as I had long contemplated.  But as I was wandering around Bucharest in the last few days I realized that I did not want to begin experiencing any more countries/cultures.  This trip has been mostly about Hungary and Romania and there is so much to think about with these peoples.  I did not have room in my head at this time to begin yet another.  I also had a very good experience cycling across Hungary and so I felt confident that I could re-cross Hungary, weather willing, without too much trouble and was eager to expand my Hungarian experience.  Hence I am headed to Timisoara, and on into Hungary. I arrived a bit after 23:00, found my little Hostel Nord across the street from the station and went to bed. 

The next morning I was out on the street about 8:30.  I could have spent a day in Timisoara, there is lots of interest here, but my mind now is on getting back in to Hungary.  I still have a full day of riding in Romania on roads that could be problematic.   It took about 45 minutes for my cell to get me through the city onto my chosen road.  As I expected the road out of town was narrow and very busy, but I was able to ride pretty fast and there were no aggressive drivers so it was not very stressful.  After about 15 km the going to work crowd disappeared and the riding was lovely. 

I was riding mostly west, the sun behind me, allowing good vision of things around me.  The fall colours were out in full.  With the sun rising behind me I was able to see detail that my ride east over the last six weeks has not allowed; most of my riding is in the morning.  I was able to discern that the crows I was watching on this morning were actually Rooks, the light coloured bills apparent to me.  I saw at least two buzzards and one little falcon, possibly a merlin.  Close to Hungary I am again in a puszta.  The fields absolutely flat.  I had a slight tail-wind for much of the morning adding to my enjoyment. 

Close to noon and after 70 km I pulled into Sannicolau Mare, the last major Romanian town.  Leaving this morning I thought if I was slow I would spend the night here.  I had a nice lunch and booked accommodation in Szeged, a major Hungarian university city, a further 50 km along the way, seemingly easy to reach.  Leaving town the road was so quiet for a while I was worried I had missed the way. I arrived at the border crossing and the Romanian guy had a lot of questions about my entry into Romania.  I’m not sure he ever really understood how I had got into the country without going through customs.  But he, like the people I encountered coming in, shook his head and passed my passport to the Hungarian guy. 

I pushed a reasonable headwind all afternoon and so when I entered Szeged at about 3:30 I was tired.  And now my Romanian sim card didn’t work anymore.  I flailed around town looking for a cell provider or the Information Centre without any luck.  At a map in the main square I located the street my place was on.  I checked into a lovely apartment and booked two nights.  I need to get cell coverage again and I need to work more on my Hungarian plan.


Posted in Romania, South East Europe | 2 Comments

The Danube Delta

Oct 4 – Oct 7, Danube Delta

I booked my train ticket to Galati the previous night when I arrived in Bucharest and that logistic was done.  Again it was a big lift to get the bike up into the old style car; this time a lady helped me.  Once on the car a guy with a grimy official badge and papers helped me arrange my bike so that it blocked one of the car exits and the toilet, but allowed passage between cars.  He then showed me papers that I owed him 100, 44 and 22 lei for the bike.  My ticket cost me 60 lei and the bike 10 lei.  I refused and he kept at me.  I finally gave him the 44 lei and he left.

This was a faster train; that is less stops, and more people stayed on all the way to Galati.  After about 4 ½ hours we arrived a bit after 1:00. I found a pretty good restaurant and had a meal.  I then started to ride into the centre.  I was looking either for a pension or the ferry across the Danube.  I saw a BAC sign and turned down the road.  I had been told BAC is ferry and so it was.  It took about 15 minutes to get across and there was nothing there.  So I was not going to spend the night in Galati, but there was a town of good size about 45 km down the road.  It was 2:30 so that should not be any problem and surely the road in this flat delta area would be flat.

The first bit was a roughly paved minor road that went pretty well.  I almost kept up with a road cyclist who came across on the ferry with me out for a spin.  After 15 km we merged in with the main road and more traffic.  But worst of all the hills started, continuously.  I pushed on fairly hard as I didn’t want problems finding a pension.  It was 4:30 when I pulled into the little town.  I passed one pension and went into the local store to ask for the particular pension that was listed on one of my sites.  I was sent back to the one I passed by only to be told that they were full and there were no other pensions.  I was told I must go on to Tulcea, the main town on the Danube.  I was now stressed.  It was 40 more km and I was worried about dark.  I couldn’t fret though and so I left riding even harder hoping the hills would disappear or at least get smaller.  But no such luck.  At each long hill, the longest about 2 km, as I slowed to 8 or 9 kph I intensified my thoughts on what I would do when darkness hit.  At least it wasn’t raining.  I got to Tulcea just after 6:00 with enough light to find a pension in the middle of town before dark hit.  What a surprise that the road was so hilly and that I had been fast enough to make it here.

I spent some time that evening and the next morning trying to find out about birding.  I had an email request out to a birding guide who did get back to me but I couldn’t talk live with him.  Two other people in information centres gave me no hope of seeing many birds.  I could go on boat cruises and there were many of those.  The Danube delta which begins at Tulcea is the largest in Europe and is a vast wetland really only accessible by boat. The northern border of the delta is The Ukraine.   The Danube is greatly braided at this point and it flows into  the Black Sea through at least three major channels and probably countless small ones.  In good birding times the Delta is one of the best birding spots in Europe. Oh well.  The southern border of the Delta is defined by the Sfantu Gheorghe Channel and it has a road running along it.  It was this road, a small road, and the network of other small roads running down to Costanta that had brought me here.

It was only 50 km to Murghiol, my goal for the day and so I could leave Tulcea late after deciding birding was out and then after yesterday’s rush take it a bit easier.  I stopped more frequently.  It wasn’t a pretty day, quite hazy and the views less than enthralling.  The road was still pretty hilly but now it didn’t matter as much.  Speed was not an issue.  Still I pulled in at about 2:30 and rode around the extended village looking for restaurants and pensions.  There are never many restaurants and most of the pensions show no signs of activity; the ones I tried did not answer.  At the one restaurant that was open I found that their pension rates were double what I had been paying.  The cell coverage was gone here but I used the wifi in the restaurant to book Casa Chitu, about a km away.  I am not sure why I never get any answer when I ring or bang on the doors.

I took my last photos of the Danube; pretty uninteresting views but across the delta possibly 20 km was Odessa in the Ukraine.  The Delta continues well out into the Black Sea beyond where I was, but that like all the Delta is a boating not a biking world.

My pension was great.  The woman running it offered both dinner and breakfast whenever I wanted.  The shower was hot immediately, The TV had both BBC and CNN channels.  What more can a guy want? 

My third day cycling started early.  I was now headed south, away from the Danube along the Black Sea coast.  Like sea coasts everywhere you don’t always see the coast.  It was about an hour when the rain began to clear away and I could see silver slivers of the sunrise on the sea.  Actually I guess only I saw what are called laculs, not sure if they are lakes but they are large bodies of water protected from the sea by reefs of something or other.  Whether fresh or salt water I don’t know.  I also never saw any Black Sea resorts.  Most of them are south of Constanta and in Bulgaria.  I passed three that I noticed but they were all off the road far enough that idle curiosity did not draw me in.  Need I add that I am not a resort type of guy.  But I was passing though villages very often usually with an orthodox church, people and things I am more interested in.

My ride south to Constanta was not as hilly as along the Danube.  It is largely rolling farmland.  Farmers often in horse drawn carts were often hauling loads of corn or corn stalks.  But I think much of farming might be large machine oriented farming as some of the fields, now mostly cleared would be much too large for small farmers to manage.   I had been seeing for much of this trip fields where sunflowers had been harvested and the odd new flowered plant rising up.  On this day I saw a whole field of what must be second growth sunflower.  It was a lovely sight, their heads all turned hungrily toward the sun.  I wonder if it will also be harvested and if they get two crops a year here. 


I sailed along on this ideal cycling road in no particular hurry.  I have been close to a number of Roman ruins throughout Romania and this segment was no different.  I didn’t go into them other take a gander if they were close.  At one road crossing of a highland I hit a strip of cobblestone near the top going up and another coming down.  I wonder if that is related to the roman roads. 

It wasn’t long before the scale of my ride became apparent and I could see that two days would easily put me in Constanta.  At the back of my mind is the niggling problem of how I’m going to get back to Frankfurt so I am anxious to get on with getting some decisions behind me.  The headwind began to pick up; it is always a problem when you hit wind turbines.  It was also getting hot, I noticed on my new temperature sensor that it was in the 30C range.  I thought I had been pretty good with drinking on this day, but maybe not.

I met the main road, which I knew I would need to follow for only about 10 km, and stopped for a drink. It turns out that the place was a casino, a bar, a grocery store, a restaurant and a pension.  I asked if I was likely to find pensions down the road.  The young guy I was talking to said yes, in Constanta.  It was just 2:00 and I only 70 km to go if I stayed on the main road.  Sensibly I booked into his pension; I must be getting old.  Up in my room I began to feel poorly and dropped off to sleep for a while. Later I went out for a walk and saw some starlings for the first time on this trip.  I arranged to have dinner, which was a tasty ciorba, fried pork and potatoes.  The ciorba was good but I left most of the pork and potatoes.  In my room I was in bed by 6:30, and up countless times.  After I deposited most of my dinner in the toilet I felt a bit better. 

I’m not sure what hit me, possibly the heat was worse than I thought.  I left without breakfast at about 7:00 after waiting for enough light to get out on the road.  I had orange juice at the town where my small roads started again and felt pretty good.    One advantage in stopping early yesterday was the wind change.  It was now out of the north and I was flying south.  However it was only 10C and the rain hit for about an hour.   It is amazing how things can change so completely.  I never did stop after my juice as it was now really grey and miserable.  I passed through a large industrial district on the outskirts of Constanta and reached town at 10:30 for coffee and a croissant. 

My cell took me about 6 or 7 km through town to the train station where I was told I could not get my bike on the next train, or any train that day or the next day either.  Walking away frustrated and confused I was approached by two guys who told me they could get me to Bucharest for 200 lei, about $60.  We walked to the parking area where a pretty nice small bus was loading people. They showed me where my bike would go.  The price went up to 250 lei, the bike extra.  I knew I was being taken, second time in four days,  but I paid and got on the bus.  Above the driver it said the price from Costanta to Bucharest was 50 lei, 25 for pensioners.  I was fuming, as we headed off for the three hour ride.

On the plus side I had four good hard cycling days on small roads and a few more experiences.  In Bucharest it had been raining hard for days and the roads were flooding.  I checked into Vila11 near the main train station, which I had scoped it out when passing through a few days earlier.  After checking in, I had to go over to the station to ask about forward tickets.  I got the same negative set of answers as I had got in Costanta.  I have three nights at the cozy Vila11 to figure out what will come next; hopefully someone there can help.


Posted in Romania, South East Europe | 2 Comments


Sept 27 to Oct 3,  Transylvania

Crossing Pasu Setret I left Maramures about noon to a 25 km downhill run into Transylvania, the largest of Romania’s regions.  And the one that has been the cause of the most controversy over the years.  For hundreds of years Transylvania was under the control of the Hungarians and then part of the Hapsburg domain of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.  But then WWI and WWII happened and various deals were made, some chose the wrong side at the wrong time and so forth.

The Hungarian claim to Transylvania had been their long tenure as controlling owners.  The Romanians claim based upon original tenancy going back before Roman times and their always predominant population within the area.  At the Treaty of Trianon in 1920 Romanians comprised 56%, Hungarians 38%, or so; the rest primarily German who were invited by the Hungarians to occupy parts of central Transylvania to keep the Russians and the Ottomans from moving in.  Very complicated business, and one that I am sure stimulates many hours of mental discourse in the cafes and beer halls.

But as interesting as I find these matters as I crossed Pasu Setret, my main concern was how I was going to find my way across the morass of roads that my maps spread before me.  Romanians claim that because they have buggered their entry into the EU they have missed out on a lot of the benefits that come to countries like their neighbour Hungary.  I so enjoyed the bike travel network I found in Hungary which is funded primarily by the EU, or so those I share a beer with claim.

Heading down from Setret I was on a road marked as fairly major on my maps, but initially it was not very busy and I was able to go almost as fast as the cars anyway.  As they say, what goes up must come down, and for cyclists this is very good news. To savour my drop I made a point of stopping part way down for lunch.  I parked my bike, walked across the fast flowing creek I had been cycling beside and entered what was a fish farm with restaurant attached.  I sat in the nice picnic shelter table and had Ciorba de Peche, which is a sour fish soup.  The sour taste is more like borsch and it is served with sour cream.  This one was wonderful.

Carrying on, the road flattened a bit, the traffic got heavier, a head wind picked up, my legs and enthusiasm began to waver.  All the usual things.  Instead of aiming for Bistrita I found a pension at Nasaud about 3:30.

Each night I pour over my maps, and sometimes find help on the internet .  I am looking for small roads that are paved, marked on my map with a faint yellow line.  But I also need to get down the road and that has become my problem.  The small roads don’t really go anywhere.

The next morning I had to take a heavier yellow road to Bistrita, only 25 kms, but with two significant climbs on the way.  The first one went well, but on the second the traffic became quite heavy.  I have never seen a shoulder on a road in Romania and so when I am slow on a steep climb and the cars are trucks are trying to get by I have no wobble room.  It can be stressful.

Bistrita is a fairly large city with a nice car free central area where I sat having a coffee spinning my decisions in my head.  I headed off with an equal chance of finding the railway station or the small road out of town that I had tentatively identified.  The road won, a steep winding road got me out of town onto rolling hills and peaceful roads.  For 60 kms I had very nice riding.  It was very hilly and so tough, but nice until the afternoon wind took a bit of a toll.  It was one of those faint yellow line rides that was kind of going where I wanted to go.

Reghin was my next night’s stop at about 4:00.  The day had been pretty nice but the morning had rung some warning bells for me.  I had also just had five days of riding and mentally I was a bit down.  I spent some hours trying to work out what I was going to do. Sept was coming to an end and half my time was gone.  I spent some time on the internet trying to figure out where the trains could take me.  I actually had gone too far south and not far enough east to get to some of my potential destinations.

The next morning found me at Reghin train station where I bought a ticket to Brasov, too far down, but the best I could do.  The train left after 11:00 and took until after 6:00.  It went about 250 kms to get a bit over 150 kms south, and stopped 100 times.  I had many seating companions.  Sometimes my six car compartment was filled sometimes the whole car empty.  I flirted with an 18 year old striking school girl, competing with her stricken male companions.  She easily played us all.  I had a long difficult to hear conversation with a twenty something boy who claimed he could speak seven languages.  The back doors of the car were open and flapped in the wind as the train rocked it way through the hills.  My bike was held in place between the two open doors by one bungee cord.  I checked it dozens of time to ensure the cord was still attached and my bike had not gone sailing out one of the open doors.  I found out later that someone had taken my odometer failing to take the wheel transmitter meaning that he got nothing, but a significant loss for me.

I spent four nights in Brasov; my plan had been two.  I washed clothes, walked the town, did a full day tour with Dan Negoescu a cultural guide who is a connection from John Dodd in Calgary, hiked the hills above the town, and spent an inordinate amount of time planning.

Brasov is one of the tourist centres for Transylvania.  It was originally a German town and still had the feeling of a Bavarian mountain town, although the Germans who came were not bavarian.  Like so many of the towns I have seen on this trip there is an old town that was originally walled.  Inside the walls many of the roads are car free replaced by cafes and restaurants.  The Black Church is an enormous presence and it conducts its services in German.  It is very cold in the morning and as soon as the sun drops, but the days are lovely.

I went on the tour with Dan the guide, a retired American couple, and a young English horror fiction writer.  Dan drove and talked great history and communist era times when he wasn’t singing along to Frank Sinatra on his CD.  We went to 19th century Peles castle, the most visited in Romania, Bran castle used by Bram Stoker as his model for Dracula’s castle and Rasnov Fortress, the latter two both 13th century.

Peles was begun in 1875 as the summer palace for Romania’s first King Carol I.  It is incredible.  Architecturally it was created by Karel Liman, who must have been a genius.  It was all impressive, but the design, wood work and overall finishing is beyond imagination in this day when craftsmanship at this level is almost impossible.

Bran, built originally by the Teutonic knights, was reworked by Karel Liman as well when it was returned to then Queen Maria by the village of Bran.

This was a great tour and hit a few of the Transylvania high spots that would be hard for me to get to by bike or public transport.  Dan was filled with the kind of information that I find interesting.  Great Day.

My final day in Brasov was a great walk up 940 m high Mt Tampa that rises abruptly out of the old town.  I was able to spend three hours traversing the tree covered mountain by chasing a few birds along the way.  It was lovely to be out on my feet in what feels like wilderness even though I was never more than 20 minutes from the tourist mecca below.   I anguished about heading out into the deeper mountains but the logistics of getting there was just going to be too much effort for the time I was prepared to give it.  Mt Tampa turned out perfectly for me.

Because of my bike it will take me two train days to get to the Danube Delta area.  When I turned up at the Brasov train station hoping to get the 8:30 train which would have linked in Bucharest to an afternoon train to Galati in the Delta, I was told the first train I could take my bike on left at 13:00.  On the upside it left me time to find a good bike shop to replace my snitched odometer.  Oh well, hopefully tomorrow I will be closer to getting on my bike again.w

Posted in Romania, South East Europe | 4 Comments


Sept 22-27, Maramures

(I’m sorry but it is tough choosing pictures for this segment)

Coming into Satu Mara in Romania I was again feeling quite exhausted, for no good reason.  The day had been long, but quite interesting and rewarding.  My sim card from Hungary did not work and so I was floundering in down town Satu Mare.  The information centre, if I had been able to find it would not have been open and I had little idea where to go.  I asked a young boy in front of a postal van and he connected my phone to his via a wifi connection and found where my apartment might be.  It was back on the other side of the river.  It wasn’t really that far away but in the cold late day it felt taxing.  The apartment I had rented, which I now decided needed to be two days, had a big queen sized bed in one bedroom, a double in another room and a high end kitchen in a third room.  I was wondering if I was going to get all this for the equivalent of $44 a night.

Heading off to find a place for a drink and ultimately a meal,  I found an Irish pub, but it didn’t have draft beer or food.  I was getting pretty down.  But I had a beer and then down the street found a very fancy restaurant where I was the only customer.  But it was good and the lady running it very nice.  I had a good sleep after watching a little TV.  They had both CNN and BBC channels. 

After making my own breakfast in the morning I headed into the centre again where I found the information centre and a book store where I got a pretty good Romanian map that would withstand rain.  My Hungarian cycle atlas suffered on my ride across Hungary.  An interesting sidelight to my Satu Mare visit was a women’s Olympic Beach Volleyball qualifying tournament underway in the town square.  I enjoyed cycling around the town a bit and found a good bike shop where I topped up the air pressure in my tires.  The first time since Frankfurt.  But mostly I was recuperating.  The prevalent architecture in down town Satu Mare is epic communist concrete, a bit of a shock after the impressive 19th century Hapsburg edifices in Austria and Hungary.

The next day, I was headed to the train station.  Mostly I had decided that I wanted to jump over some busy roads before I began riding into Maramures.  And it was good that I had because it was now raining harder than any day yet.  I got to the station to find that there was no train along the line that I wanted so I bought a ticket to Baia Mare, the normal jumping off point for Maramures, but I had a three hour wait.  I headed into the centre and found a coffee shop.   I was back about 45 minutes before the train was to leave.  I missed it by 15 minutes.  I had not noticed that I had lost an hour on entering Romania.  So I had another three hour wait.  Back into the centre to another restaurant.  Each of these 10 minute trips into and out of the centre got me nice and wet.

Finally I connected.  It had taken until 4:00 to get out of town and I was in Baia Mare around 6:00.   During these waits I had bought a Romanian sim card, an online Romania Bulgaria guidebook and I made a pension reservation for Baia Mare.  It was not raining when I left the station looking for the pension in Baia Mare but I was drained anyway and getting pretty down.  The pension was nowhere near the centre and I was expecting to be isolated unable to find a restaurant.  Then everything began to change.  It was a very interesting neighbourhood place with a nice restaurant and lots of activity.  Pretty dreary unproductive day, but a good finish and a riding plan for the next day, rain or shine.

It didn’t take long to get out of town in the morning.  I never did see Baia Mare centre.  I was climbing from the first kilometre.  It was a very gloomy overcast day but it never did rain and I was finally moving.  I had two route possibilities, both with a climb to around 1000 m, over the first of the Carpathians that I would face.  I missed my most likely junction and just kept on climbing through a town called Baia Sprie, where I saw my first wooden church.  It was early Sunday and so there was a service. 

Soon after the switchbacks in a deep forest started.  The road has been newly surfaced and I think widened.  It was also fairly quiet.  At no time did the grade get above about 7% and so I was able to just keep on slowly grinding up the hill, probably at least 20 switchbacks.  It took about 2 ½ hours from my start until I hit Pasul Guta at 987 m.  I had only stopped the once to visit the church and so my conditioning and the favourable road made for a pleasant morning, but it was cold at the top. After a coffee I put on all my clothes for the run down.  Again many switchbacks and then villages started again. 

This is the Mara valley, famous for its wooden buildings and gates.  I began stopping fairly frequently for pictures and then I had a ciorba (soup) for lunch, almost getting warm.  I was making pretty good time and so at this point I made a decision to cut out on small roads to a Budesti where one of the more important old churches is.  At this point I was 20 km from Sighetu, my likely night destination.  I was not to get there today.   Instead of having a continuous down river run into Sighetu I now proceeded to head into and then climb out of three different valleys.  My shivers were replaced with sweat.  After the long climb to start the day I didn’t need any more climbing.  But I did get to Budesti and visited the old world heritage site.  At most of these old churches there are a little group of elderly women all in black, possibly because it was Sunday.  I now think some wear their black all the time but not all.

Now it should have been downhill from there but I had decided not to ride all the way to Sighetu and started to look for a pension, which now seemed to be scarce.  Twice I went off following someone’s direction only to return to my run towards Sighetu.  Finally I was standing in front of a closed pension as it was starting to get dark when a nice woman waved me over and we agreed that she would help.  A few minutes later her daughter, son-in-law and grandson arrived in a car.  I followed them to the daughter’s house where they plied me with palinca and fed me all of the things Mariana has told me to eat.   The daughter, one of those wonderful thirty something women who should be running the world, spoke good English.   I toasted the grandmother, the husband and then the grandfather arrived and I got to toast him as well.

It turned out that the daughter ran a transport office housed in a pension, basically closed for the season.  We all headed out, now in the dark with a few shots of palinca to help me to see and ride better to what turned out to be a luxury pension.  The daughter left me with instructions of how to use the coffee machine, the beer cooler and how to close up in the morning before I left.  I had coffee and a beer with the other occupant who acts a bit like a caretaker.  Another one of those great human experiences after potential trouble that makes travel so rewarding. 

If it sounds like I am struggling and unhappy then I am sorry.  This is what I like to do.  If it was easy then I wouldn’t be here and if I didn’t want to face difficulties then I would go with an organized group.  The challenges I put myself into are not really that great but at my stage of life a little challenge is a spice that I look for, so bear with me.

I had a cold fast ride in the morning into Sighetu, enjoying the sun after a few cold wet days.  I visited a museum created to memorialize the tragedies of the communist period in Romania and finished planning my next few days and had an easy day.  Most hopefully the weather looks good for a while.

Leaving Sighetu the next day I was headed up the Isa Valley.  It was to be a day of many stops as the visual attractions are endless.  I had talked with a person in the Information Centre in Sighetu and he had pointed out some valleys leading off of the Isa that I had to visit.  I had had a taxing off route run on my ride down the Mara valley and normally I would just give it a miss and head on up the main valley, towards the next phase of my trip.  However I reasoned that maramures was really the prime attraction for me in Romania so after an hour or so when the first little side-road appeared off I went.  I was expecting the gradual climb up the Isa to be replaced by the more serious climb that headed up the narrow valley to a series of small villages with wooden buildings, old churches and working people in the fields. 

Indeed the narrow one lane road was steeper but it was paved and almost car free, so I was enjoying it.  Passing through one and then a second village I was beginning to see that this would be an all-day side trip.  And that proved to be doubly true when just out of the second village the road turned to steep loose gravel.  I could ride it a bit but when it got steep I had to push.  Three times I was to push before I finally got to the top of the ridge before heading down.  It was here that some really nice views of the valleys and of people began.  Dropping down on the steep gravel was not really much easier; my brakes got a good workout.  I didn’t walk any of it but probably should have. 

The next village had an old wooden church and some paved roads.  I began to understand that these villages have no restaurants, only places for beer or coffee both of which I had thinking that I had an easy 5 or 6 kms over another ridge to Botiza, famous for its pensions.  But immediately I hit gravel and was walking again.  This time though it was only the one time and before long the road dropped into the valley and pavement began as the village stretched out for a number of kms along the little creek. 

Passing what appeared to be the centre of Botiza, with three churches and the confluence of two creeks I began looking for a pension.  It was only 3:00, but I had decided it would be where I would stay.  I tried three places, all very nice seeming to have 6 or 8 rooms.  No one answered the door at any of them.  So I phoned one of the numbers and got a person who in quite difficult communication led me to believe that she would not be able to help me until 7::00.  I asked in a store and was sent to a big house beside the churches where a young woman with four young kids and an injured leg began to phone around.  It appears that as it is past the tourist prime time and harvest is in full swings so most pensions didn’t really want me.  The pensions in these valleys need to provide the meals for their guests as there are no restaurants and guests are too much trouble at harvest time.

So finally the woman agreed to look after me and let me into the most attractive old house right in front of the churches. During these discussions with her bad leg she was quite stressed.  Her children were about having all sorts of fun and her husband seemed to just like watching it all.  I bought a beer from the store walked around a bit, had a shower and began to wait for dinner.  We had not arranged a time so I kind of spun my wheels but there was always something to watch.  Every few minutes a horse and wagon would go by, the men were visiting, smoking and drinking in front of the store, kids were on bikes, roller blades, even one on a motorized skateboard type of thing.  The husband came out of the house now dressed in his full black cassock and headed off in his car.  Now I see why he had a big black beard.  The husband was the priest.  He was preceded by the woman’s father as the priest.  Three big houses chock a block with furnishings and artifacts attest to the long church history in the town, and the woman who was trying to look after me seem to be at the centre of organizing things.

Finally after 7:00 I was sat down to a ciorba as a first course as my hostess was still hobbling often with one of her kids under her arm.  Before long a Swiss couple joined me who would have been turned away if I hadn’t already been there and things were being put together for me.  We had a long visit aided by half a bottle of palinka provided with our meal.  Another very interesting day.

In the morning, we had a great breakfast and I headed off down picking up the main Isa valley quite some way along from where I had left it yesterday.  I am amazed at how many people live and work in these small valleys.  All along the way people were working and there are many hundreds of houses.  It was bright and sunny but very cold, particularly since the hills often shaded the road.  Steam was rising from the hay and the horses as I rode by. 

All too soon I was in the main valley continuing the climb up the Isa.  I bought a drink and a bar at exactly to right time as the road turned and began heading to my next major pass, Setret at 817m.  No where near as many switch backs as three days ago got me to the top where I had my last look at Maramures, before heading south and Transylvania.  Maramures is a wonder and I loved my brief time with her.   

Posted in Romania, South East Europe | 3 Comments

The Hungarian Puszta

Sept 17-21, The Hungarian Puszta

Standing between Budapest and Romania is the Hungarian Puszta, the largest prairie in Europe.  My route across the puszta will take me through Hungary’s oldest and possibly largest National Park, Hortobagyi.  After feeling quite constrained by the Danube Cycle Path, I was particularly excited to be crafting my own route, in no small part to the Hungarian road atlas geared for cyclists I had bought in Budapest.

Budapest to Jaszbereny

It took about 10 minutes to cycle from the hostel to the train station, 20 minutes to find the right ticket booth and get my ticket to Isazeg, and then the scary 40 minutes of trying to ensure I found the right platform and train before it left.  I never did figure out the signage system.  Guessed wrong twice, even getting help hefting my bike onto the train headed for Munich.  I just stumbled on the right train, on platform 12 but never did figure out where the signs said so.

Once on, the train felt just like Germany.  Very modern, pulled out precisely at 9:35 as scheduled with in car signage for each station along the way. I was only on for 30 minutes, just to get me out of Budapest onto my chosen bike route.  Isazeg was much smaller than I had imagined. It was spattering when I got off the car, I guessed which way to go, finding a coffee shop, which I now realize was real lucky on this Sunday.  It was the last one I found on that day. It was 10:30 before I had my coffee and two different pastries and got my load arranged for possible wet riding.  It was still just spattering and so I headed off.  The big test was now how good my new cycle road atlas was going to be at picking out a good route and then helping me stick to it.

It started to rain immediately, but I just kept going.  The road was a little hilly but pretty quiet.  I was kind of expecting, from my atlas legend, either a shoulder or a marked bike lane; neither. It was 13 km to the first town and it rained all the way, but I was on my way and going well and well rested.   I had a turn at the first town and it happened exactly as the atlas indicated, and the rain stopped.  At each town I passed I was on the lookout for a coffee or pastry shop, nothing.  The cycling was really enjoyable and my confidence in my atlas grew as I got on to ever smaller roads.  The puszta was ever in evidence but usually I was buffered by trees and bush, and with it frequent bird song to add to my enjoyment, not that any were known to me.

Approaching Jaszberney, the largest town on this day, it started to rain again.  I was just under 60 km, and had thoughts of continuing but the rain cleared that thought.  Once again, no restaurants, no coffee shops no hotels as I rode towards the centre.  Not even sure where the town centre was I stopped at a crowd of people taking tents down, obviously some event, maybe shutting down early.  I asked for panzio, hotel, bed, all my terms.  In the rain the communication was tough and so one guy just indicated I should follow him.  About ten blocks later he stopped outside a fairly big hotel, but the price, no registration, was good.  But the restaurant was fully involved in a wedding.

I walked back into what I perceived to be the town and again with help from a friendly soul I was able to get a couple of beer, a goulash, coffee and more sweets and to kill a few hours before going back to an early night.

Jaszbereny to Tiszafured

It cleared overnight, now sunny and cold, I headed off after a good hotel breakfast.  Never on busy roads, my route took me zig-zagging across the puszta again accompanied primarily by birds.  It was Monday so the towns were a bit busier and so I could have found a place if I had needed one but I just kept trucking, greatly enjoying quiet road riding compared to the busy often convoluted bike route riding of the Danube.  One or two of the roads were rough and pot-holed but only dropped my speed to 20-22 range.  There was no appreciable wind on this sunny soon to be warm day.

Around about the 55 km point I did run onto the Tisza river and with it EV11, I think the Euro-Velo route that connects the former Iron curtain countries.  My time on EV11 lasted most of the rest of the day, about 50 kms and it was always on a paved trail on top of the berm along the Tisza.  A reward on this leg was riding along but unable to photograph some buzzards.  Lunch during this segment was another nice soup and a citroen/beer drink that was thirst quenching.

At the point I was to leave the Tisza, still only about 2:30, but over 100km so I stopped at a campground with a likely looking hotel/restaurant close by.  I will camp when it looks sunny and is not too cold.  The campground was also a boating concession.  By the time I set up camp, had my beer and early supper it was cold and dark and so I crawled into my tent at about 7:00. One downside of camping at this time of year.

Tiszafured to Hortobagy

After a number of night calls, when I had to get up at 5:00 I convinced myself that the heavy wind that had hit was going to bring rain.  Still dark out I broke camp.  By 6:00 the sunrise showed no rain, I  rode into town where I found coffee and yoghurt.  So I was on the road early and only had 40 km to Hortobagyi, where I hoped to see some birds.  Luckily it was to be a short day as the wind that woke me was straight out of the east.  I rarely got above 20 kph and was pretty spent when I pulled into Hortotbagyi.  The hotel that I found was 2 km down the road but I was able to get in early and was back by 10:30 looking for birds.  The big destination turned out to be 7 kms back down the way I came by a gravel bike path.  I saw a big eagle sized bird and lots of crows and sparrow like birds but never did find the area where the birds are.  After riding around for another 20 kms I was tired of fighting the wind.  Back in town I signed up for a $4 wild animal safari which turned out to be a bus ride out to a seedy zoo.  I did see one of the big Hungarian cattle that this area was built on.

I had a second meal at the 200 plus year old Hortobagyi Csarda, from the years when the Inns were spaced about a day’s travel apart.  What I missed in not finding birds I gained in finding about the Hungarian “cowboy” history.  Hortobagyi seems to be an immense grassland reserve amidst the crops that surround it.  I believe a large part of the park is preserve the ages old cattle environment that has been in place for the hundreds of years since the Magyar came.  The Csardas, cattle and big cattle farms are part of this history.  Next day, on my way I saw some real examples of the cattle, a modern cattle man, the farms and every 15 km an old Csarda still in use.

Pusta Cattlemen

Sculpture & Hortobagyi Csarda

As I wander across the Puszta (we need a similar term for our prairie), spending about 4-5 hours spinning away and 19 hours eating, sleeping, or filling time, it occurs to me to wonder what I am doing out here.   There is no doubt that the exercise is beneficial above and beyond what I do when at home.  But I could get the equivalent value in a rigorous hour or two not even every day.  The planning and plotting is also of value, but a good chess game every day could fill in that need.   I meet some new people, but particularly away from the tourist stream there is little scintillating dialogue.  Perhaps, as I experienced last year in Hanoi, I should find a bar in Calgary where travellers congregate and appear open to conversation.  That one is a little tough to visualize.  I am seeing a new place, feeling a small part of the pulse of that place. Here on the ground, I think that the research that has gone into the trip, this trip in this case is an essential part of what I am doing.  There is no way that I would have or could have read with retention what has happened in this part of the world without having the trip ahead of me.  Solitary cycling is an activity for solitary people.  It sounds trite to say, but what it means as the kms click by, as I sit alone in a nice restaurant enjoying my beer and meal, as I sit writing to myself is that I feel an empathy for place and people not possible if I was to stay in Calgary working out in the gym and reading.   Confirming and clarifying my feeling of a place and people as I have gleaned from the historians and travellers who have gone ahead fills me as I trudge on.  As I cycle on down the road onto the next place I leave with a satisfaction of having been and felt maybe superficially but for a solitary soul it is good.

So, leaving Hortobagyi my birding experience sucked but my feeling for the history and soul of the puszta is great.

Hortobagyi to Nyirbator

Another misty day as I headed on down the road.  As I finished riding out of the grasslands of Hortobagyi back into cropland I was particularly happy to get some shots of the cattle life now more significant than before my visit.

I headed on into Debrecen, Hungary’s third city, with no real interest in stopping.  I got through town with no trouble only to have my rack fail.  With the larger tires I am glad to have on this trip Kham, at Bow cycle installed some extenders.  One side failed near Budapest, now the other side failed.  It took 45 minutes to bend and jigger things so I had about ½ cm of tire clearance.  Still close to Debrecen I had a chance to head back in to buy a new rack or smaller tires.  I chose to carry on.  Things seemed ok and as if to sign that I was doing the right thing probably the nicest roadside eatery of my trip so far appeared.

Not only that, but the crumby road side bike trail that had moved me onto the moderately busy road all of a sudden became a modern two lane separate bike road.  This treat disappeared in the towns but then picked up again out of town.  I followed this pattern most of the way to Romania.

Nyirbator to Satu Mare, Romania

I had negotiated breakfast at my panzio and so at 7:30 I came down to a 67 year old man who had made me an omelet and who proceeded to have a conversation with me through his smart phone.  He would speak into it in Hungarian and written English would appear.  I would reply in English and written Hungarian would appear.  Along the way we had tea, a special Tokay wine, and a final expresso.  Some of the conversation was a little mysterious.  In response to my estimate that my bike trip would be between 3 and 4000 kms he said that he was going on a bike (motorcycle?) trip of 18,000 kms to celebrate Satanism.  He was particularly emphatic that I understand what he meant.  I lied.

My cycle atlas lead me onto a backroads route towards Satu Mare, which is a large city very near the Hungarian border.  I did not want to ride the busy highway.  So I had a pleasant ride, early in the mist along some quiet roads.   Unfortunately the wind was fighting me again and it was draining my energy faster than normal.  On one section of berm riding I watched a buzzard souring in the wind.  Somehow I lost my way and ended up beside the main road, only to find the separate bike road system which took me into Csenger a border town where I spent the last of my Hungarian Florints on a nice lunch.

The road into Csenger took me away from the highway into Romania, and not wanting to backtrack I found what my atlas seemed to indicate as a bike crossing.  I found my way up onto a nice berm with paved road.  There were no others around but I carried on.  Now granted that there were quite a few signs in languages that didn’t communicate to me, and at one point there was a dead end sign on the road.  Dead end signs though don’t always apply to bikes.  15 or 20 minutes along the berm there were some bars across the berm which were not very hard to get around.  At this point I hoped to be in Romania and distant church steeples indicated there were some towns that I could possibly find my way into from the berm.

Illegal Berm Riding in Romania

And then there was a small white car with uniformed people waiting for me.  The woman started very sternly speaking in one of those languages that I am not conversant in.  I replied by smiling and saying hello, usually very persuasive strategies.  The man asked for my papers.  We had a nice 15 minute conversation during which I was prompted to reveal my whole trip plan and why an old Canadian was entering Romania illegally.  They explained that the borderless EU world didn’t really apply to Romania.  The man had a conversation with someone on his car phone.  The very nice young woman finally shook her head and pointed on down the berm and told me to have a nice visit.

So I continued on down the berm, ultimately into the centre of Satu Mare where I flailed around for an hour to find the place I had booked.  The tough long day convinced me that I needed a day’s break in Satu Mare to get my act together for Romania.    Hungary had been great, hopefully Romania will be as fulfilling.





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Sept 13-17, Budapest

Coming down the Danube a dramatic view of Budapest first unfolds from the Buda looking across the river to Pest and the Parliament buildings. 

Crossing the river on one of its six or so bridges I floundered around to find my booked hostel, on the second floor above the very touristy Vaci Usta, but only reveals itself if you happen the know the address, #23

Budapest is one of the city destinations on this trip, perhaps the most important one for me.  It comes when I need a bit of a mental and physical break from my cycling, and it is one of those cities that has allure for me. My first morning found me in the National museum, where I hoped to fill in a few gaps in my understanding of Hungarian history.  The Magyars, found their way into Europe from middle Asia around the 8th century.  Hungary, as a name evolved from the Huns who preceded them but who retreated back into Asia and there is no relationship between the Magyars and the Huns.  Magyarorszag is the Hungarian name for their country. 

Ethnically the Magyars have created a gap in the Slavic world of Slovakia, The Czech Republic, The Ukraine and others to the north and Bulgaria to the south. Mediterranean Romanians form a rough eastern border. Of course the European diaspora of the last 1000 years has greatly stirred the pot, but these borders are still very important. 

It is interesting to me that the Hungarians consider the nation began around 1000 with its conversion to Christianity by its king and patron Saint Stephen (Istvan).  The same thing happened in Norway at the same time by its king and patron saint Olav.   Something about the time I guess and wonder how prevalent this was around Europe at that time.

The Magyar position in central Europe has continually been under pressure from outside.  At one time the Hungarian empire spread much more widely but with pressure back and forth from the Ottomans from the south east, the Hapsburgs from Austria, and Russians from the North West.  German settlements were encouraged to help repel these pressures.  Hapsburg control in Hungary weakened in 1948 with a rebellion attempt but lead to the Austro-Hungary Empire that lasted until WWI.

The Trianon Treaty in 1920 hit Hungary Hard.  Having chosen the wrong side in WWI Hungary lost 2/3 of its territory, ½ of its people and 1/3 of ethnic Hungarians.  Hungary resisted getting into WWII for a while but internal factors and the possibility of getting some of its losses back had them again entering the war on the wrong side.  Today 10 million Magyar live in Hungary, 5 million outside Hungary.

St. Stephens

Budapest today is a wonderful place to walk around, which is largely what I did.  Many of its streets are car free and the baroque architecture (for me, anything ornate), mostly from the late 19th century is candy to the eyes.  It is very much of a tourist city and so it is hard to pick out who would be local and who not.  The modern parliament, most tourist facilities and the tourist centric activity emanate in Pest, the part of the city on the east bank of the Danube.  Buda, the more traditional capital is a city of hills.  Buda Castle and many of the upscale living quarters are on the west bank.  I spent the better part of one day walking those hills, and when I wanted a thermal bath I chose one in Buda. 

The Central Market

Buda Castle

Street Happenings

Electic Car

Beer Can Sculpture

In searching out my next moves I was sent from a bike shop to a specific book store where I found a cycle atlas for Hungary from which I have created my path out of Budapest and out to the eastern part of the country.  My main option had been to stay on the Danube following it south into Serbia and onwards.  That option is off for now, and hopefully by Sunday night I will be well on my way into the Hungarian Puszta.

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Photos from Frankfurt to Budapest

Leaving Frankfurt by Train

The Steinerne Brucke in Regensburg

Danube Travel Choice – Bike  or Boat

Rad Weg (Cycle Path)

Birds on the  Danube


Coffee and Strudel

In Austria


Wachau Wine District

Egon Sheile

Berm Cycling

Sturovos from Esztergom

Last Ferry before Budapest

Budapest – Hungarian Parliament Buiildiings

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