Finding a comfortable space

In Poland they engage in the practice of dubbing foriegn telivision shows. I, being no stranger to plonking myself in front of the box have seen this practice in many other countries. Whether it be delighting in Kramer's antics whilst krauking out the Emprorer's own German or taking in the glory of a period drama in Bulgarian I can enjoy a nicely dubbed bit of film. However in Poland Karolina and I have run into a unique phenomena. The Polish use a single person to dub an entire film. For instance after a big day's travel (some of it on the train, details to follow) we assumed the position and readied our self for some Samuel. L. Jackson. Unfortunately the bass rumble of his voice and the smooth rythmic meter of his flawless ebonics was replaced by the serid flow of a singular monotonous Polish gent. Also Sam's screen friends (men and women alike) were all interpreted by the same Polish man. All emotions were removed by the same filter. We could see gun being fired, we could see the poeple scream but only one voice could be heard.

We have been steadily moving since our recouperation in Budapest last week. Our first day's peddling was along the Danube River, a small day which landed us in the city of Vac. Given its proximity to the large city of Budapest I was expecting a Geelong, read as industrial and grotty. To our suprise Vac had a Grand European square, fountains, churches, the whole bit. We stayed in a pension run by a mad Doctor. Within minutes of arriving he a named me the Professor of Sexology and refered to his bottom as ham and the relevenet protuberance as eggs.

Our next day would take us into the mountains and forrest. Our maps have very little in the way of Topographical detail so predicting vertical distances has been difficult for us. The first day we expected to climb roughly 200-300 meters. 800 vertical meteres and about 2 hours later the dirt road we were following stopped. We had gone the wrong way. Cue thunder and rain.

Despite these humble begginings the days that followed were amongst our favorite for the trip. The mountains continued and we crossed the border from Hungary into Slovakia. Almost immidiately the people changed. In Hungary we had to work like dogs to get strangers to smile. An example of this, something that occured frequently, was that someone who may have been smileing when they caught our eye (and our smile) would then change to a frown! We were pumped when this fog of outward melncoly lifted, right at the border. The Slovak's were up for interaction and immidiately the place felt more friendly.

In addition to the friendliness the country is stunning! What we expected from Transylvaia we got in Slovakia. Green forrests, cliffed mountains, many climbs and spectacular natural beauty. Also the Slovakians really respect thier country. The Romanian mountain roads were a constant reminder that the crap we eat in cars is wrapped in heaps of packaging and the gaps in the trees were often used as bins. In Slovakia grass was in vogue. We continued to climb into Slovakia enlivened and invigorated by the environment. After a few hours of this we found ourselves (not without sweat) in a ski resort drinking gluvine! As good a place as any to get a nights rest.

The mountains continued until the border with Poland, the crossing itself being on a pass. And then began the desent, hours of downhill. It is a hugely satisfying feeling to build up potential kinetic energy over many days of uphill riding and then release it all at once. Our desent took us through forrest and past villiages. A tributry streams thundered along next to us and, at least for a while, the road was ours.
Then the terrain flattened out, the roads became extrodinarily three dimensional and the traffic exploded.

The last hour of our first day in Poland had Karolina pulling a wide variety of snapshots.  A bit of background. As you can imagine spending large stints of time talking exlusively to one person can give conversations a certain flavour of the insane. Our 'chats' (sessions perhaps?) often see us adopting characters (A Sth African Steve Irwin inspired TV personality who has fallen in love with his camrea man, Gary, is a favorite), inventing songs or just sometimes making noises for hours on end. Each time a truck, or car whizzes by you often tense up. Karolina thinks that if you were to take a photo at this moment it would be hilarious. Hence snap shots. So as I said this road was awful and Karolina pulled a huge range of snap shots. And this awful road led to Osweism, the town where the Nazis established the Aushwitz Concentration camps.

We spent the next day at Aushwitz with a tour guide. I can not do justice to the experience in writing but it would be remiss of me not to acknowelgde it. What struck me hardest was how real the place is, it has not been altered since it was liberated (save for a few exhibits). A plaque stands at the end of the Birkenau camp and it is translated into the languages of every victim of that place (there is also an English translation, though no native English speakers were murdered there) and it says,

Let this place be a cry of despair and a warning to humanity
Where the Nazis murdered about one and a half million

men, women and children, mainly Jews from various countries of Europe.

Aushwitz-Birkenhaus 1940-1945

The previous night we had done some calculations and realised that it would not be possible for us to reach Sweden without another stint on a train. I say not possible but I mean not enjoyably possible. So we decided to catch a train from Osweism to Warsaw. On this train trip we thought it prudent to book some accomadation. But each call was met with the same answer, 'Sorry we are full'. I later found out that AC/DC were playing and this was one reason why it was difficult! So realising that we would have to wing it we waited to arrive in Warsaw. At 11pm, tired from a weeks riding and a big day we started our search. Nothing in the central district. Nothing in the next district (3kms away). Finally two hours later and 5km away from were we had started three buildings stood as a lasting monument to communism. Each a 'Smart Hotel' each containing about 300 rooms. The first was full. The second was full. The third, one room for one night. We snapped it up and retired to our quaters trying to imagine what state designated jobs some of the previous tennants of the rooms may have had.

The next day came quickly and before long we were homeless again in the big city. Setting course for Lithuania we knew we must travel North East. But having heard whispers of a magical path called EuroVelo (a network of bike paths and bike appropriate roads for touring) we set out with confidence looking for the golden way. The mornings search for the exit was unsuccessful. So we came back to where we had started and pursued another route. Surely this would be better, and it was. White signs with red bikes on brown trees dotted the route. This was living, no cars, we could ride next to each other. Glory be the lit path! And then it stopped. Cut to 8:00 pm. Having travelled 60+ kilomtres, riden all day (only one half an our stop for lunch), 20 hours after we had arrived in Warsaw and ten hours after we had started riding we were back at the train station. Having acquired tickets on the first train travelling NE we knew, for the first time that day that we would escape Warsaw and perhaps get some sleep!

Last nights sleep could not have been better. We are in cushy hotel offering Panna Cotta via room service. Add to this a bit of telly and a breakfast buffet and you can rest assured that your narrators are enjoying catching up on the last few days. Both of us are well fed, have dropped off some laundry and now we will slowly slip into a a relaxed state of toasty apathy which should move swiftly towards coma in the next few hours. It is there, in that mindless numb delirium that I will hopefully understand what the Poles see in that mans anesthetised translations.

Wyświetl większą mapę

Wyświetl większą mapę

Wrestling for The Initiative

In chess, 'the initiative' is an ever present quality in the game.  Having it means that you can dictate the next move and your opponent  must use their move to respond rather than having the luxury of pursuing their own strategy.  I say this because since our last post (2 weeks ago) it feels that we have been engaged in a messy struggle for the initiative with some elusive yet omnipresent opponent.  Using the environment, mechanics and psychological trickery they have managed to stall us and we have found ourselves stationary for longer than we would like.  However like any good struggle we have adapted to the new challenges presented to us and overcome them as we have now arrived in the truly European city of Budapest.  Karolina will fill you in on the first part of this tussle!


BUDAPEST!!!

We have arrived, accually we arrived a couple of days ago but have been doing very little, not even being able to summon enough energy to hobble down the stairs of the room we are staying at and walk around the corner (Acually just outside the door) to the internet cafe.  But here we are now.

We left Romania on Monday for Hungary, but not without complications.  As we left the historical town of Alba Iulia we soon ran into trouble...  Chris´ backweel (of course) had a broken spoke, and since we had no spare spokes we had no other options than to walk back to the nearest village to try to get some help.  We soon found out that there was no one who could help us and that our best option was to take the bus back to Alba Iulia.  The locals that had helped us soon disapeared and we were left there with Jan, a fellow bike tourer who had come past as we were trying to sort things out.  He soon left and up came Nico, one of the locals whom we had spoken to earlier, with his car! He offered to take us and our bikes to Alba Iulia straight away!  We happily jumped in and along the way he told us that he did not know any bikestores in town and neither did any of his friends.  He took us to the train station and after refusing to accept our offers of some petrol money, he left us there feeling very grateful but also like puppies with our tail between our legs.  We knew that our best option was to take a train to the border town of Oradea which was bigger and that we surely would find someone to help us there.

After stuffing our things in and out and in and out of trains we arrived, got lost, found a hotel who would take us and our bikes.  But we also found out that tomorrow was Sunday and that nothing would be open!  We accepted our fate and after being told by a man who worked there (Bobby) that he would help us with everything on Monday, we realaxed into our new situation and started to explore Oradea.  It was a really nice old town which had been in the hands of the Austro-Hungarian empire for a while and felt very European (Ed. Swedes have a strong idea about what it is to be European!).  We walked, talked, ate and also found our way to the cinema. Needless to say, we had a good time.  On Monday morning we went with Bobby to the bike store where we handed in Chris´ wheel and then went to have coffee with our newly found Romanian friend.  He proved to be really friendly and he bought us coffees, introduces us to his son and gave us ice cream.  All in order, packed and ready to go we left for Hungary. Not quite the week we had planned but as we got back in the saddle everything felt good again and we were back in our new element. We passed about a 3 Km long line of trucks waiting to get into the lush, clean and bike friendly country that is Hungary!

We were ready for something new and as we rode into the fourth country of our trip it felt wonderful (the boarder was a non event and we did not even get a sign saying "Welcome to Hungary" or anything, very unsatesfying).
We found that Hungary is full of campsites and it was a pleasant surprise since there was nothing of that in the previous countries.

Chris again,

Having finally crossed the border (after being being stationary in Alba Iulia due to storms and Oradea because of the broken spoke) we set about finding accommodation.  As Karolina made clear previously, our trip, which has not given us many options for camping suddenly threw up a number of options.  After a quick discussion we decided to go to the first place we saw, a caravan park.  Entering the reception, sweaty and dirty as usual I was met by a very clean cut man.  He gazed toward me.  I smiled and went about spraying my nasally ruffened dialect towards him, 'Do you have a campsite available?  We have a tent. Also is there any food about?  We have no money.  Can I use a card?'.  Much to my delight he jumped upon the request with the enthusiasm of a a teenager for matches.  Offering help in every which way, help I did not know I needed and then help 'maybe a little like this?'.  I must admit whilst I was happy for the effort he really was putting a lot of time into the help.  Karolina, confused at why this interaction was taking longer than expected popped her head in.  And she too was borne as witness to the blind zeal of this man's helpful attitude.

Later, after we had set up and eaten we wandered around our new home.  'That's odd' Karolina mused.  Taking a closer look at a graffiti mural (the kind that funky art teachers get at risk kids to paint in schools) we noticed a bus.  And who was that driving the bus..  'Ummm.  I think that's Jesus.'.  Looking down the side of the bus we saw emablazzened the word 'saved'.  Pulling a quick 180 the outdoor conference center we realized had an alter.  It all made sense.  The glazed look in the eyes of the helpful man that screamed 'I help for fear of hell'.  We had stumbled into the belly of the beast.  This, my friends was crazy town and Jesus was the mayor.  We went to bed and planned our escape for morning.

The next three days we rode towards Budapest knowing that there we would find supplies (English books, bike parts, sushi).  The weather turned and each day it rained but each day we peddled for 8 or 9 hours.  Both nights we intended to camp and had to contend with mosquitos on a scale that I had not previously encountered.  Though we were thankful for our friends their presence indicated the existence of big pools of hot water.  Thermal baths!  A wonderful way to end any day of riding.

Our entrance into Budapest was no less spectacular.  The roads ran like rivers.  We were saturated and covered in dirt and a little on the tired side.  Arriving at the guest house we had to clean our stuff upon entry.  A job that neither of us felt like doing but would be no more fun when we were clean.  Anyway lets zip forward to now.  We are refreshed, resupplied and planning the next stage of our adventure (Slovakia and Poland).  The internet cafe is slowly filling up with smoke making me wish that I smoked so that I would not notice nor care about the wheeze I am developing.

Before we sign off this post there is a funny little thing that happened to us, apropos smoking.  My back wheel has been the weak link in our trip.  Whether snapping spokes, or bending out of shape it has been a constant force for evil on the trip.  Riding along a familiar wonk developed accompanied by a flapping sound.  Back wheel, punctured tube (first for the trip).  We stopped and replaced.  Karolina took photos to kill the time and about 15-20 minutes later it was replaced.  Then I noticed something.  A familiar looking weed.  And it was everywhere.  On the side of this fairly well traveled road a patch of marijuana plants.  Maybe 100?  Had we not noticed it was like this the whole way?  We set off again and I kept my eyes open to see if this was a constant road feature.  It wasn't.  It just so happened that my tyre puntured at exact place where some local had planted his glaucoma medication.  A strange event.

And on that note we will sign off.  Tomorrow the game continues and hopefully it will be our strategy that prevails in this phase.

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Next to me is a small transistor pumping out 'the best' of 1980's put your head in the oven classics. Completely consistent with this ambiance is my computer running the powerhouse Windows 98. I have no idea what I am typing as it will appear on the screen in 3,2,1... There it is. The internet cafe is in a little lane off the main tourist drag in Brasov, Romaina. On the other side of the lane is a club, Cafe de Paris, thumping out house music. So if this post takes on a macabre tone understand that my environment is trying to push me elsewhere with the efficiency of a Chernobyl enema.

Speaking of Chernobyl, throughout the last week Karolina and I have been cycling through Rural Romanian villages. Some of the more educated amongst us and those of you who have read the Lonely Planet chapter on Romania (the category to which I belong) know that many villages in Romania were used as the production sites for a great many chemical manufacturing plants. As a consequence of this as many as 2/3 children in these places have been affected by mental illness. These children are now adults. Now I can not say for certain that we have seen this in action, but there is a very tangible vibe through these villages. A sleepy, spaced out craziness. Maybe some of you who have found yourself still awake after a few days partying lying in bed trying to fall asleep have some personal experience?

After our rest day in Sozapol (Bulgaria) we rode to the port town of Burgas. The same day we caught the train a few hundred kilometers across the guts of Bulgaria arriving at 10:00 pm in the border city of Ruse. (Hopefully this is the last public transport we will catch before the Ferry in Tallinn, Estonia!).  The next morning we meandered around the town taking my back wheel for a walk.  It was  bent once more, though unlike our time in Turkey I had not yet tried to fix it.  In short it was not completely stuffed.  We found no one to fix it and continued to ride for the border. 

Yet again we found ourselves on a dirty, industrial stretch of highway.  However, this piece of road had a few idiosyncrasies that kept a gal interested.  Firstly, the Danube river; a mighty piece of water (that i wont be drinking) separating Bulgaria from Romania and touching most of Eastern Europe before emptying into the Black Sea.  Secondly. Prostitutes.  Yup.  Prostitutes.  Large ladies in small clothes, chewing gum, waiting for Mr. Seedy to come along and sweep them off their feet.  Although this must be in a manner appropriate to a weaselly looking pimp overseeing all interactions.  The only interaction we saw was a seventy-something man pull up in his old car.  It was enough, our goal became Romania.  Post haste!

 The border crossing was uneventful.  Our only observation was that the Romanians seemed looser, maybe we could occasionally receive a smile in this new country?  Within a day we had our answer.  Riding into Alexandria after 80km's (our biggest day at that point) your two tired protagonists found themselves enjoying the company of a Romanian man also on a bicycle.  His English was pretty good.  After the normal introductions and cordialities he made it clear that the town was pretty awful (read: ugly/boring not certain death for naive tourist couples).  We made it clear that we were looking for a cheap hotel.  Scratching his head he thought he might know of a couple of places.  Anyway as the conversation progressed and this man continued to be giving with his time I remarked to Karolina that it annoyed me that traveling had made me so skeptical of other peoples kindness.  Laughing she said, "India will do that to you!".  We chortled together marveling internally at the goodness of the human spirit. 

Cut to three hours later.  Karolina and I are in our overpriced hotel bed, after having been charged for food we did not order.  The music from the empty restaurant pounds away and  the blind covered window glows radioactively from the still beaming lights.  Annoyed, with bruised egos we tried to sleep, or at least close our eyes for long enough for day to break so that we could leave Alexandria behind us.

Behind us it is.  About 250km's behind us!  The last four days we have cycled about 340km's.  It has been mostly flat and perfect training for the day we had yesterday.  Our alarm was set for 5:30 so that we could beat the traffic and begin our climb into... TRANSYLVANIA Moo Haw Haw Haw.  It was a big climb to the pass (1200 m) and by the time we arrived there we were both so hungry and tired that no joy was expressed for our achievement.  This would have to wait until lunch time.  Sitting down, munching on our salami and peppers our gaze was shifted from the immediacy of what we were feeling to the majesty of what we were seeing.  Snow covered jagged peaks of the Transylvania Alps.  Amazing.

These mega mountains will be the backdrop for our next weeks cycling.  So more to follow.  Our nest post we should be in Budapest, Hungary.  In this town we will have a couple of days rest and we will be looking forward to that. 

Okay finishing on a technical point.  I will now try to attach photo's to this blog  entry and the preceding ones.  If this does not work it is because I have not been able to hand crank this relic computing device fast enough.  In addition to this those of you who like me, enjoy well drafted work and are reading this blog cringing at the typo's and spelling errors fewar not.  In Hungary I will install the relevant checking mechanisms (English) and have a computer fast enough to make editing work less laborious.

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