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...

Days 44-46

Hembroke went a-cherry pickin'
Kilos he did pick...
Don't eat too many cherries
Or you'll end up feeling sick.

Vienna to Komarom (Hungary)

No longer are our hazards wobbly tourists on uncontrollable E-bikes. We have entered a world where road markings are a thing of the future, pot-holes have as much right to be there as anyone else, and tree-roots constantly break through ageing tarmac. The currency is unfamiliar, and the language incomprehensible, but a smile still costs nothing, and unfortunately so does the locally brewed fire-water!

There was no question as to when we crossed from Austria into Slovakia, as the derelict buildings still stood, redundant now, but a reminder of when borders were still used here. Everything became instantly cheaper, and a little shabbier.

Bratislava, the capital, was a pleasant surprise. With only half a million inhabitants its historic parts were easy to walk around and soak up the atmosphere in one of the numerous original cafes that line the cobbled streets.
It is the only capital in the world located on the border of three countries, and we know it, as we breakfasted in Austria, lunched in Slovakia and dined in Hungary!

However, exactly when or where we entered Hungary is still a mystery to us. Steve noticed a lot of money exchange places in one town, and upon investigation we discovered that Hungary uses the Forint not the Euro, and that was that, we were in.

I can't tell you which country this horse drawn plough was in, except it wasn't Austria!

It will be very interesting from here on, as WiFi doesn't seem so readily available, English is hardly spoken, the cycle signs vary from slightly official metal ones to hand drawn paper arrows, and no sign shows any distance in kilometers to anywhere!

We left our first Hungarian campsite at 8.30am, and arrived at the next one at 6.30pm, having crossed every type of terrain possible - pot-holed roads, dirt-tracks, woods, fields and even tracks that were still being made as we pedalled over them. The worst thing was, we'd only travelled about 40kms as the crow flies!

Our bones are shaken, our knees are swollen and our bodies exhausted. Hopefully our rest day has prepared us for whatever lies ahead.

It feels like our warm-up period is over. Now the real adventure begins...