Days 66-70

You have to be adaptable
As any traveller knows,
Sometimes the way you wish it was
Just ain't the way it goes...

 Negotin (Serbia) - Shumen (Bulgaria)

And so we made it to Bulgaria, another "hard" border-crossing, which we arrived at by 7am, and had to go looking for the border police as I don't think they expected anyone that early.
Things immediately felt more run-down; not a EuroVelo sign in sight, and all signposts were in Bulgarian with little or no translation of names, so it was a bit of a lottery to pick the right road. People were more than willing to point us in the right direction though, as if they didn't want us stopping in these depressing towns they lived in.
My first thought upon entering Bulgaria was, "how is this a country in the EU?" It seemed more 3rd world than some 3rd countries I've seen.

One image that has stayed with me is of a half finished, half falling down 3-storey brick building without windows or doors, and would-be balconies without railings, just straight drop offs.
Derelict, I thought, until a skinny dog came out and halfheartedly barked at us, and above, a level higher, through an opening appeared a very old, very bent, peasant woman. She hobbled to the edge of the balcony to see what the disturbance was.
(Obviously not much goes on here normally).
We raised our hands in greeting, unsure if she could even see properly, and hoping she knew where the edge of the balcony was. She raised her head, which was resting on her chest, to a jaunty angle, lifted a hand and gave us a toothless grin.
It was quite horrific to imagine her living there.

Nothing improved much over the next few days; the roads were bad, the towns continued to feel derelict and depressed, and the temperature was rising to a "red" weather warning. The hills didn't help matters either, but the traffic continued to amuse us...

We contemplated crossing the Danube to the Romanian side, where it was flatter, but there are very few places to cross, and the map showed there was even less infrastructure over there, making the chances of finding a room impossible. As we were finishing riding by about 10am, when temperatures were already reaching the high 30's, putting up the tent to shelter in was not an option for us.
Also, realising now we actually might make it to the Black Sea, it made more sense to head for Varna than Constanta because of the flight issues.
And so, we decided to head for Sofia, the capital, and fit in one more "Steve's City Bike Tours".

True to form, he got us around all the main sites; including the Alexander Nevsky cathedral and the beautifully decorated Russian church, all in very good time. Sofia is very small for a capital, and pleasantly calm and quiet.

And of course,there were lots more derelict buildings...

It was a great shame that during our stay it was like living in an oven. Most of the time was spent lying down, sweating, underneath the mini-fan we were forced to buy.
As it was impossible to do much we decided to hop on a train. This was no mean feat; a bone-shaking, hot and sticky ride with stern, grumpy conductors who told us where to put the bikes, then told us off later because we'd left them there. Luckily it was all in Bulgarian!

Steve was most impressed to learn from the driver that the engine, which is electric, was from 1972, and still going strong...

It was quite amazing we managed to get off at the right station, as there was no such thing as an announcement, and station names were often only in Bulgarian. Also we've noticed that the Bulgarians have the same habit as the Indians - they waggle their heads instead of nodding when they answer in the affirmative, making things a tad confusing...
We felt more exhausted than we had after any cycle day, and our headaches lasted well into the evening.

And so to the final stretch. We are the pioneering the "Stevie Velo 1" route, unchartered territory other than what we can decipher from the map.
At least the heatwave appears to be over...!

Days 62-65

Now I don't mind a bit of heat -
A nice suntan and toasty feet,
But 40+ for any fool
Is wholly unacceptable!

Veliko Gradiste - Negotin (Serbia)

And so we begin possibly the most amazing part of the whole trip so far - The Iron Gates. A series of gorges that extends for about 120kms (from Golubac to Kladovo on the Serbian side), where the Danube goes from 5kms wide to just about 100m. Cliffs reach 500m high, and both sides of the river are national park - Derdap National Park on the Serbian side, and Iron Gates Natural Park on the Romanian side.
Two hydroelectrical dams with two power stations, Iron Gate 1 and 2 mark the end of this amazing stretch.

A lot of bee keeping goes on in this area due to the biodiversity of the region, and it is an ingenious method that they use. Old trucks are converted into bee-hives, which the owners park up near the fragrant Tilia trees, then drive on to fresh pastures when the flowers have been exhausted. The owner of this truck was very happy to show us around, and even scooped out some honeycomb for us to chew on and taste the deliciously sweet, new honey. Sometimes he sleeps in his bed above the cab with his bees, other times he goes home - there are no rules, he told us.

It was a long, hot climb to the highest point of the road, and where the sides are too steep to make a road, tunnels have been gouged through the rock, some more than 400 meters long, and these make the already exhilarating ride even more exciting, if you make it through alive... For inside the longer tunnels it is pitch black, you cannot see where you are going, and our measly cycle lights don't shine much light on anything in there. My heart started racing more than during the hill climb when I heard the thunder of wheels coming round the bend behind me. My little back-light was frantically flashing its feeble red glow, and Steve's head torch in front was the only thing I could see to follow. Trying to get to the side without crashing was no mean feat, as we stopped and breathed in, trying to flatten ourselves against the rock face. Luckily the car saw us, and luckily this road isn't very busy, as there are 16 such tunnels to contend with. Not all are so long and dark, but I'm just saying, it's not for the faint hearted!

I won't begin to try and describe the spectacular beauty of this place, just bear in mind the photos don't do it justice...

After two days of amazing biking the landscape flattens off again, and it's back to roads and regular scenery. We rented a 2 bed apartment in Kladovo for about €12 from a lovely woman, who included beer and cake upon the handshake of the deal, and we thoroughly enjoyed chilling out for the rest of the day and parted like old friends at 6am the next morning.
Now we are in Negotin, in possibly the nicest guest house we've ever stayed, with hospitality you could only dream of. No wonder Guesthouse Stanisavljevic was awarded 9.6 from Booking.com last year, and it's only been open a year!
Bojan, the lovely owner, is very keen on tennis and built the first tennis court in Negotin so he could coach his son and train himself. It's at the back of the guesthouse which is 100 years old and once belonged to his grandfather. The whole family are all equally lovely, and they fed us extremely well too! It will be hard to leave tomorrow...

If you are ever in the area make sure to book a room:
bojanstanisavljevic67@gmail.com

Now we are contemplating the next part of our journey without much enthusiasm, as temperatures appear to be soaring here, reaching a whopping 45° at the weekend!
We have also discovered (thanks to Information Dave) that it's nigh on impossible to fly out of Constanta, so we may have to divert our finish on the Black Sea to Varna, Bulgaria, instead.

Days 47-55

Pepper, chilly, paprika,
By many names it's known,
But Kalocsai-Sarkoz in Hungary
Is the true Paprika's home.

Komarom (Hungary) - Kopçevo (Croatia)

Hungary is a country of contrasts: East meets West, rich meets poor, hot meets cold, and perfect signs and newly made cycle paths meet... well, to call them "token gestures" would be generous.

The path or track you are faithfully following can at any time suddenly stop, or become a field, or disappear, or be going the wrong way. You have to constantly scan all around for glimpses of a sign, which could be on the floor, twisted around a lamp post and pointing the wrong way, or hidden by thick overgrowth. They are hard to spot, especially when you have to keep your other eye on the road or you'll end up down a pothole. Add to this 35°heat, few shady spots to stop and even fewer villages, and it makes for a challenging ride.

Esztergom is the town on the Danube Bend - where the river turns south to head through Hungary. The Ezstergom Basilica ranks first among the churches of Hungary and dates back over a thousand years.

We didn't hit Budapest on a national holiday -just my birthday- so it was hot, busy and precarious to cycle around, but interesting non the less.
The "Ruins Bar" section was great to find, derelict buildings made into funky bars...

...another contrast to some of the grand buildings there, especially their Parliament house that was based on the Houses of Parliament building in London.

However, urban camping in the middle of the capital is a noisy affair, and the hot sun shines on the tent from about 4.30am, so sleep can be hard to come by. Better to cross the river on one of the local ferries and find a peaceful spot on the Danube somewhere...

There were campsites, and the ones we found that were still in use were very nice. If not, you could always rely on some kind Germans to let you put your tent up on their terrace!

I'm not sure where this town got it's name, but it certainly summed up the way i felt when we eventually arrived there after an endlessly hot ride...!

There was no doubt this time when we crossed the Hungarian/Croatian border, as there was a proper border crossing, with queues, passport control and surly, gruff officers.
Croatia felt immediately different - the roads are very good, and very quiet. Rundown rural houses are dotted all around, as is an abundance of food growing everywhere. Benches under the shade of trees are in the quiet villages, and the people are very open and friendly.

The camaraderie between cyclists is different here too, as anyone who has made it this far, whichever direction they are headed, knows what others have been through.
Some are cycling to Beijing, some have come from Iran, and some are following the EV 6. Everyone has their own stories to tell...