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Sunday 17th October The next morning we both awoke with stinking colds being too tired and wet from the previous day to hold them off any longer. Despite this, we said our goodbyes and offered him money to say thank you and set off into the mist. Luckily this was to be a shorter day and as we got closer to Turnu Magurele the weather cleared giving us bright sunshine to warm us through and cheer us up. As we crossed the bridge within sight of the city, Paul's pannier rack decided to break loose with a loud crack! Arrgh! One of the bolts holding it in place had sheared under the heavy load and constant battering from potholes. Despite his frustration and lots of cursing (underestimate!) Paul managed to find a similar bolt in his luggage and give it what we hope will be a reasonably permanent fix. In desperate need of a shower, we found the only hotel in town. Unfortunately this was 50 euros for a double for the night. Still not sure how she managed it, but Kate managed to secure us a double room for half price! Perfect. The room was lovely even if the duvet was a tad too small! There were also 2 Italians staying here, Max and Andrea, who were in Romania on business...hi guys! Turnu Magurele is a beautiful town with a vibrant central square and colourful shanty-like suburbs. We felt relaxed there and had a great pizza in one of the fast food restaurants. Monday 18th October The next day was the last full day in Romania. We were going to ride the 100 something kilometres to Giorgiu, just across the river from Ruse in Bulgaria. Despite our wonderful rare lie-in the weather was kind and the going was flat so we made good progress. By the middle of the afternoon we were nearly there. At 4 o'clock Kate piped up 'Seeing as we're going so well, shall we cross the border today?' Paul was not so keen on the idea as it would mean crossing into a new city and country very late in the day. After lengthy, often heated discussions, Paul succumbed to Kate's wishes and we picked up the pace to make the border in reasonable time. On the Romanian side everything was going well. The petrol station where we stopped to pick up the last few supplies with the remaining Romanian coins was really friendly and border control/customs was smooth and painless. Then we crossed the bridge into Bulgaria. Pushed on by more vicious snarling dogs at our heels we whizzed over the Ruse friendship bridge to Bulgarian border control. Here we got stuck. Every lane was jam packed with coach loads of tourists with every passport needing a stamp. Bugger! We were stuck 10miles out of Ruse - the sun was going down and border control was a complete mess (plus everything is now in the Cyrillic Alphabet!).
Finally Paul assertively managed to push in and eventually we were in Bulgaria a day earlier than planned. The only problem was that by the time we arrived in the centre of Ruse, it was dark and we had no idea about Cyrillic signposts! Doh! Hotel after hotel we tried but each one was far too expensive and pretentious for our liking plus they would never have allowed our scummy bikes in! Eventually 2 businessmen gave us directions to 2 cheap hotels. When we finally found the first one it seemed perfect but it was full. By this time it was 8 o'clock we were tired, hungry, snotty, coughing and spluttering with our colds and just desperate for a bed. We summoned up the strength to face the night-time streets and the knowledge that we were bound to get lost trying to find the 2nd hotel. We did find it and it was a little expensive but we would have settled for anything at this point; Kate was even contemplating the train station but had no idea where it was!. We moved our stuff in up three flights of stairs (no lift!) and quickly went in search of some grub. The local kebab shop was perfect and we soon found ourselves munching on burgers wrapped in big greasy flat breads! Just the trick after such a hard day of 85miles. Time for bed. Tuesday 19th October The next day and a half to Veliko Tarnovo saw us experiencing huge changes in the landscape. The hills grew. . . . . and grew, with craggy outcrops and deep river gorges. The hillside was dotted with autumn colours of yellows, oranges, browns, reds and golds. The hills were tough and navigation was still tricky as there were very few signs, and those few that existed, were all in Cyrillic. Oh Joy! On the way out of Ruse, just shortly before finding out that we weren't allowed to use the main road, we saw 2 other cyclists on the main road who we stopped to speak to. Their names were Kurt and Danielle, two Canadians who were cycling from Amsterdam to Turkey and then probably onto Greece, although they seemed very tempted by the prospect of Syria when we told them of our plans. In hindsight we should have probably followed them in their search for a quiet road to Veliko Tarnovo instead of continuing bravely along the main road, before eventually giving up and finding the nearest exit to the quiet road they had already taken! Oh well, we live and learn...too many times! That night we pulled over and set up camp on the edge of a cornfield. The setting was idyllic, as we curled up to read with the sounds of crickets and frogs serenading us. Later this was replaced by heavy rain and the howling of dogs close by. Wednesday 20th October At least, by morning, the rain had stopped and we could drag our muddy bikes back onto the road to continue onto Veliko Tarnovo. Despite the hills, things were going pretty well until we asked for directions for the last few miles into the city. We ended up pedalling along 5miles of motorway style main road desperately trying to dodge traffic before being dropped slap bang in the middle of a spaghetti junction type road intersection into the city. Unfortunately, at one point we took a wrong turning and found ourselves heading towards Ruse! Not what we had planned. So we bravely (stupidly) got off our bikes and ran back up the turning facing the oncoming traffic and bemused faces! We did, somehow, manage to get to the centre, and in one piece. After negotiating our way past middle-aged women, trying to sell us rooms, we found the tourist office and were soon having hot showers in a cheap but lovely private room in the old town. Thursday 21st October 2,175.2 miles, Veliko Tarnovo, Bulgaria
The view from our doorstep is stunning, looking out over the river gorge with its jumble of old apartments covering the steep sides. It seemed such a wonderful place (especially after the tough previous weeks) that we decided to stay for an unplanned rest day! Yippee! Clothes can be washed; we can sort things out with our bikes, eat lots and unwind a little. Oh yes we have to mention the town's scores of cats and dogs that Kate will obviously have to tend to individually. Possibly an additional tin of sardines might be on the shopping list as the cats perched on the dustbins at the end of our road seem a little undernourished! Friday 22nd October On Friday, we woke up well before the alarm dreading what was promising to be one of our hardest days yet. We were both feeling really grotty with colds, spluttering all over the place, and we had to negotiate the main road again to pick up our intended road which would climb to over 700metres before dropping into Nova Zagora. However, this was not to be. After the previous glorious days, it was raining which set a rather sombre mood for the departure. As we studied our map for the way out of town, a local taxi driver 'kindly' informed us that the intended road was closed. Ahhh! Other than using the main road all the way we were left with two possible passes of over 1000metres and a much longer road. You can imagine the dilemma and the obligatory tantrums! Resigned to our fate, we first had to head north over a murderous hill, along a narrow steep winding road, before we could head south. In other words, we had to go back on ourselves. When we were finally on the road the going was fairly good. We were climbing steadily on good tarmac through lush autumn forests in the mist. It was after a lunch stop in Elena that it all started. 10km out of the town, as we continued to climb, the road surface disappeared. We were now climbing 1 in 4 on a surface that resembled more of a peak district bridle path than a major national trunk road. It was obvious that it had been tarmac'ed at one time but that was many years ago and it was clear that no one had any intention of repairing it. It was now a mixture of rubble and gravel, with huge potholes and rainwater channels. It was amazing how the little Bulgarian Ladas (cars) managed to get up at all. Yet they did and with very little regard for us poor cyclists. After the first 2km of this, this all became too much for Kate's bike as the first one of her front pannier rack bolts sheared, requiring emergency surgery on the roadside. As this was the second procedure of this kind on the trip it took surprisingly little time. As the road continued to wind up through the woods we started to get more and more concerned. It was getting later and the road was getting quieter and quieter, yet in the mist we had no concept of how far it was to the top. It was claustrophobic and cold from the mist and we had to keep on stopping the occasional driver to check if we were still on the right road. It was becoming really depressing. We were running out of water, there were no road signs, and the only noise we could hear was our bikes slipping in the rubble and the occasional curse as we tried to propel ourselves upwards. At the good points we were doing about 5miles an hour. Luckily (with our constant exertion we were dripping with sweat off our noses and eyebrows and every other imaginable place, and our water was quickly running out) we found a drinking fountain on the roadside so we could fill up our water bottles and bag. We had left Elena at 2 o'clock and at 6 o'clock we still had no idea how far it was to the top (it had been signed 41km from Elena to the village in the next valley). Suddenly, as if out of nowhere we were on tarmac again and the road was pointing down. We had made it. We were at the top and you could not believe how relieved we were. We were now at an elevation of 1044metres. Completely elated, we slipped on our windproofs and our hats, and after battling with it for so long, we let gravity do all the work and started to free wheel down into the valley - we now had a 17km downhill ahead of us. As we dropped, the views down the valley and of the surrounding mountains were breathtaking. It was a combination of craggy rock faces, beautiful rich autumn colours and brutal concrete structures, the origin of which we had no idea. As night began to close in, we found ourselves a quiet camp spot nested in the trees above the road. Despite the slope (Kate was always sliding to the bottom of the tent) we slept soundly, shattered from the day's efforts and happy that the worst was now behind us. Saturday 23rd October We rose at dawn and quickly cycled the 20miles into Nova Zagora from our second breakfast of curried potato balls and chocolate. Scrummy! Leaving the lush wooded mountains behind us we were now riding across flat plains, covered with a patchwork of fields. Ahead of us we could see big power stations belching smoke into the clear sky. On the flat the going was good. As we passed the 'picturesque' power stations the road began to climb. The fertile valley was now giving way to a sparse broken scrubland (to Kate, with the train tracks running through it, reminiscent of a western film) as we climbed steadily only to drop into the occasional village. The last one of these was a place called Glavan. Here we stopped at a cafe, although at the time we were unsure due to the drunk old men on the terrace. We had nothing to fear though. Everyone was friendly and interested in what we were doing even though they hadn't a word of English between them. One of the old men sauntered over to us and drunkenly suggested that the 'Bambina' (Kate) should definitely eat before she climbed up over the hill. We finally left having eaten bananas (as much to satisfy the old man's wishes as to give us some energy), filled our water bottles and had our payment for our drinks refused by the barman. Kate resisted the temptation to honk her hippo for fear of falling off in the process and thus confirming their belief that she was a weak bambina. The long climb out of the village in the evening sun was tough (we definitely did need those bananas!) but mentally we had to get over them (there were more than one) before the end of the day. There were a number of snakes on the road, all but one of which were dead, and after Kate accidentally ran over it we weren't sure about that one! Ooops! We reached the top to watch the sunset before dropping down to find ourselves a camping spot tucked in the woods. The constant rustling of little creatures (or so we think) in the leaves kept us amused all night! Paul and Kate x
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Challoner's, Fasiledes, Amersham, Buckinghamshire