Rhodopes, Bulgaria. On the route from the Adriatic to the Black Sea from the initial five were three of us - me, Jim and Bob Scottish. The turn of June and July of the year 2010 This time the World Cup - as anyone knows Bob knows, that football is a sacred thing for him. Do not miss any match. Do not miss out matches when traveling by bike is not so again hop siup. You have to combine, you have to sacrifice for a good cause, but that Bob has a good obcykane - always somewhere to find this TV, out of the ground it shake out, for people to wprosi, Will beer - eager to find. There any smartphones or other GPS users do not have, paper map where the darker marked in the higher parts of the mountain suggests, it will not be simply and quickly. The mountains are, This must be so, and already. Janek goes slowly, I like it I – mainly push bike, Janek waiting for me, Bob disappears from the horizon of chrysotile. The aim is located behind the city pass Gocha Delchev and above all the final match! When about seven o'clock we see Janek indicator located in the village of guesthousu decide (no ok, I lead the way in this decision) forgive. There is a nice village, The climate is Pensjonacik, it is telewizornia. Only Bob has no. He drove. Driven think about watching the match pushing hard on the pedals, until he came to the pass around 22.00 then the dark, szwankujacymi rolled off the brakes on the outskirts of the city in time for the last minutes of extra time. It's called sacrifice ie, it's called passion! Both myself and Janek at this time, despite the sincere desire to cheer and fell asleep in front of TV. Bob ahead of us as it turned out for some 50 km distance, we met a few days in the beautiful city of Plovdiv. The train took us to the Black Sea, which was indeed black, but the amount of moczących in the human – the planned 2,5 days in Golden Sands far enough to me half. (Gallery of travel 2010 r. yes here)
And among other things because now the Black Sea is not going. Bulgaria Southeast, where he drove now is completely different than Bulgaria is hidden in the green mountains. Here in the lowlands heat unabated, fields of sunflowers and corn stretching across the horizon, interspersed only large tracts of wasteland. Horse-drawn carriages pass me many. There is already watering pots with water, which for the whole day watered farmlands in Greece. There is however a lot of poverty and human kindness. People see me are kindly interested - here coffee, there coffee, some cucumbers, tomatoes, a melon as a gift. Someone shows shot with water (and, how missing Greek ubiquitous springs!), one leads to the bar with homemade food, where I see the line boarders fields towns. And where a delicious dinner I leave the equivalent of a 10 zł.
small hotel owner, before which I stop to catch the internet also offers coffee. It's nice that he was, I was, but it is still before noon, So thank you and I'm going away. little damage, because the price affordable, some 10 EUR. I'm going to have any 20 km and the storm is coming. After three hours of sitting at the bus stop no end in sight, Things to stop the. For all this comes the question from the owner of the hotel - where I am, is everything OK? Perhaps, however, I wanted to sleep with him? Maybe I come. The head revolve me a thousand thoughts, or falls and if something else is on top of things, then wins the vision of a clean dry lokum and the owner turns out to be in love mountain walker, What is the Polish Tatras also frequented. I staying for two nights.
Surroundings very modest. Red brick houses rarely is covered with a plaster, every other window in the house covered, plywood killed, foiled. The fences often hard to discern binder – kick and a smash. For three days, I see a newly built house. I not so imagine the country from 9 years of belonging to the European Union. I see some new playground and modernized railway line on the route Berlin - Istanbul, but that's all. Haunted by the ghosts of the fallen post-Soviet factories, plants, shops, PGR, eyes still encounters some ruins, at the sight of which I do not even want to pull out the camera. Before the houses familiar - a few flower beds, here tomato, here peppers, a horse, donkey, is walking a few chickens or ducks. I used a lot was going on, was well They say encounters with people.
Bulgaria heyday, when the luxury of the socialist reality were holidays on the Black Sea has unfortunately behind. Currently the beach in Sunny Beach is becoming popular as a cheaper entertainment among young migrants from Western Europe and do not associate too well. This is confirmed by a guide at Veliko Tarnovo - historical town, the former capital of the country before it was moved to Sofia. place, which luckily I am able to reach out and see something more than just stretches of sunflowers.
According to the information in the guide wyczytanymi Sideways, after crossing the mountain ranges of the Massif Central Balkan, which according to the name of the center and horizontally crosses Bulgaria stepped into a zone of temperate climate. The nights become cooler, coating the tent in the morning wet with dew, but the temperature during the day finally lived up to my wishes and dropped below 30 degrees. Houses also came a plaster and workarounds though richer than those in the south.
Bulgaria tiny country. Less than a week and I'm in Romania.
This for a variety of surprises me very positively and in the region, by which I was driving I did not notice any major differences in relation to the Polish - no, besides may still recoiling from a large number of carriages and of carts - everyone in the village seems to have any, together with a good brand of car. They are for an architecturally interesting houses surrounded by small arcades – colors, happy, bypass neat. Before the houses on the street all day watching the way people sit, on of which not much happens. Well, so normal rural pictures.
All roads seemed to lead to located a few dozen kilometers from the border of Bucharest, and I really did not want to go there. Negotiating does not amuse me, and the departure of large cities, somehow I did not want to give the capital the country a chance and it did not want to let me out of his orbit. Three days of circulation and I still circled like a satellite. many rivers, little bridges, here the way rozmyło, there's something there.. For this ended side-roads and the main national international broke off head. and the prospect of staying there until the border with Ukraine was extremely depressing. This is quite contrary to my vision of travel and the prospect stay on the way to the border with Ukraine was not the funniest.
Ever since I made my decision, I will not play in any aircraft, to come to the country in September, it became clear to me, that at some stage of the journey I had to support – horror! – train. And unfortunately also it became clear, that to India as soon not get. And also, that where the most interesting, ie in the Romanian Carpathians I have to now I have to let go. Fortunately, there a little the other day I shook.
That day I moved very late. For the second day I'm tired of the stomach and holding a level to some 10am. The wind blows very strongly in the face, a truck whizzing richly and I am reviewing for the umpteenth time the map was wondering how to fix.
Small town, a small railway station. Hmmm. Any information found on the net suggest, that Romania take the bike to the train is not possible, but to ask. On entering the ignition train. Jake wygodnicka, I like. Small, Low floor (what the local conditions, the station is the threshold on the thigh, but not the nose). I'm trying to find out where he's going, but nobody understands me. The lady at the counter my question, Can I bring my bicycle somewhere starts to ring.. at this time, I learn, where the train goes and locates the place - North, Super - the city Barlad my azimuth! Lady still on the handset shows me the finger, with departures per minute and the train additionally stands on a platform other. Firing roller skates, I'm leaving you with a wave and a quick "thank you", I fly out of the building, grab a bike and .. It rolls into another train on the platform 1 blocking przejście.Ręce me fall, but I see at the end of the platform one more distant crossing the tracks. When they przeturluję you in a nice train gives the signal for departure. And here zwolnijmy some tape and watch the situation like in slow motion - I try to run at the same time, wave and pull the bike screaming "noooo, stooop, I also do Barlaaaaad!". results. It works like yelling at my dogs, which I learned in Greece and which die without moving not only dogs, but also half the village looking who shouts and why. So here also, Mr. conductor dies in still observing the phenomenon, as I am and I was at the time a train comes by. Forces the hands of a few peasant returning from the morning shift bicycle is placed safely in the middle, I manage to get on with their own forces. We set off. The conductor otrząśnięciu after the shock issued me a ticket on the bike - that is, you can! Within 2,5 hours unexpectedly find themselves in Galati (pol. Galati) - A town on the border of the Romanian-Moldovan-Ukrainian. For Stasiukowego Babadag here close. The border here Danube has a high edge and undulating green hills drove the arid fields of corn and sunflowers. Hurraaa! When accommodation somewhere on the mat behind the church in the morning I put up again at the station with a plan to embrace and benefit from the net (at most railway stations is wifi) I see standing on the platform ... a nice train with the inscription Iasi, which is the former capital of the historical region of Moldova (Moldova - Poland and Moldova - the region of the current Romania) and place, that I wanted to visit and go for it it looked – the further course of history can be imagined.
Greetings from Iasi. Still very royally here.