Romania - it's been emotional

Flailed by hot dry winds,

covered in dirt, dust and sweat,

we struggle on, tired.

How many highs and lows can two people have in the space of six days ? Bucketloads.

Since leaving our cool, air-conditioned haven in Beska (Serbia)  last Thursday we have experienced extreme heat, battled horrendous headwinds, cycled through stunning river gorges, camped behind shrubs on the edge of a field and wallowed in luxury in a hotel.

Our hotel in Beska, Serbia - for a ludicrous €22 per night.

Hazy sunset, Beska.

We left Beska as early as we could after breakfast, heading for Belgrade, the Serbian capital. Even so, it was already 33 degrees Celcius by 8.30. Luckily we only had 60km to ride so we arrived before midday and spent the obscenely hot afternoon hours relaxing in the shade. It got to 40 degrees that day, but the good news was that it was expected to start cooling slowly over the next few days to the more manageable mid then low 30's.

Despite knowing that it was only forecast to be 36 on Friday, we decided to make an early start to get through Belgrade before too much traffic made it a nightmare for cycling. Leaving at 6.20am unfortunately wasn't early enough.

By the time we arrived in the city from the campground (on the outskirts) at 7.30 the streets were already teeming with cars and a nasty headwind was making itself felt. Signage, really quite good throughout the rest of Serbia, let us down in the city centre and we missed an important turn, spending an unfortunate hour meandering through the city streets until someone finally pointed us in the right direction.

We did however find a great little bakery right in the centre of town where we purchased some delicious pastries. These wonderful pastries kept us going all day. And a very long day it was.

Thirteen and a half hours after leaving that morning we pulled up outside a tiny restaurant with a couple of rooms to let, 105km from Belgrade. You do the maths, it's not pretty. Between Belgrade and Dubovac, for that was the name of this pinprick on the map, we battled ever worsening head winds, slowing us down to 9km/h at times (we usually cruise at about 20km/h).

We had planned to camp but the campsite marked on our map did not exist, so we had to continue an extra 15km along a dirt track, with a dust storm at our backs, until we found somewhere to stay. The air was extremely hazy from the wind and the Danube, quite choppy.

Dust storm across the Danube.

Dust storm, dead trees in the water and our cycle path.

We had a bit of a sleep in the next day and didn't leave until almost 9, with a good breakfast under our belts - hard sheeps cheese, boiled eggs, bread and jam with an excellent almost turkish-style coffee. Heading north and east toward the Romanian border unfortunately the head wind had not died down overnight, in fact seemed to have strengthened. Some gusts had us battling to stay on the road as it came in from the side. From the front it slowed us down to 7km/h at times. And then there was the huge hill not marked on our map – with a 12% gradient !

Bela Crkva, Serbia

Hills of Muntil Locva, Romania

To make matters worse we had to traverse east along one valley for 20km against the wind before turning around and coming 20km down the next valley in a westerly direction (luckily with the wind at our backs this time) just to reach a border crossing that we could use (the closer one was only open for locals). We relaxed once in Romania though, knowing that it is not just not illegal to wild camp (like in Croatia and Serbia) but that it is entirely legal to camp on public land.

Our next problem was money, the nearest ATM was in a town about 50km away, against the wind (you cannot buy Romanian currency outside of Romania) but we had forseen this and stocked up on food before leaving Serbia, so we could at least wild camp and eat.

And water – no taps or pumps visible on the streets of the villages (In Hungary, the pumps in the street were all bright blue, making them easy to find). Neil ended up asking a woman in a little one-roomed village shop for water and she gladly filled our bottles. And the next day as well, an old woman sitting outside her house in the village of Svinita helped us out with water.

In fact, we have found the Romanians to be even friendlier than the Serbians with their waving and their hellos. Though sometimes the horn honking can be a bit startling. We have not, as seems the norm with tourists to this country, included a photograph of horse and cart on Romanian roads. While we have seen (and even overtaken) horses and carts on the roads here (as we have in Hungary, Serbia, Croatia and Ireland), Audis are more prevalent.

Choppy Danube.

Hand-made haystacks, rather than machine made bales.

As we came back to the Danube from our 40km border crossing diversion we found the wind even worse than before. We struggled on as far as we could then made camp by the side of a field. We didn't sleep well that night because the wind did not abate one iota and the tent fly kept flapping noisily throughout the night. There was another stunning sunset with all the dust in the air and so many stars visible away from all the light pollution of towns.

Another stunning sunset

Up with the sunrise on Sunday morning and off early into the breach once more – this headwind thing was starting to wear us down. The prevailing winds along the Danube are generally downstream and this upstream gale had the river a mess of white capped waves and a churned dirty brown colour. Sunday morning was the worst yet.

We arrived in Moldova Noua to find an ATM and at least get some local currency. Luckily one of the two machines was working. From Moldova Noua the river swells into a bulge and the wind coming over the water was tremendously strong – we were held to 6km/h for the parts of the road that faced into the wind – which was a lot of it, seeing as we were following the river downstream. 

Leaning into the wind, trying to stay on the road

However, we were now in the Portile de Fier (Gates of Iron) National Park and the road closely follows the river through some very narrow gorges. The steep hills on either side began to offer some protection from the winds. They were also stunning to look at. Almost like cycling through fjords but without the pine trees. 

Self photo in the Iron Gates

Iron Gates National Park

On the Serbian side, the road continues through 18 tunnels where the rocky hillside is too steep but on the Romanian side, the road winds right by the river nearly the entire way from Bazias near the border to Drobuta-Turnu Severin, a distance of about 130km. There are many problems with landslides so some stretches of road are currently under repair – both the road surface and the chunky bulwarks against the cliff faces to keep stones and dirt from the road.

Dogs everywhere, waiting, hoping.

Finally on Sunday afternoon the wind started to ease and we decided to treat our exhausted bodies to a rest in a B&B. Except that none that were marked on our map seemed to exist. So we plodded on and on and just when we'd almost had enough, we came across a Pensiune (B&B). The Cabana Delfinul was so restful we decided to stay another night and have a proper rest.

Our room looked over the Danube and our balcony had even better views up and down the river. The strong winds calmed to a gentle breeze and we had a lovely day on Monday relaxing, eating, reading and practicing our Romanian (a lot easier than Hungarian – sort of a strange mix of Italian and Russian).

Fisherman, seen from our balcony

From our balcony, a view of where the river narrows into 'the boilers'

Leaving this morning, farewelled by one of three resident dogs.

This morning we left after our breakfast omlettes and coffee (a cooked breakfast is one of the great advantages of not camping, unfortunately we can't afford to do it all the time) and headed along the river to a couple of steep hills which took the road away from the narrow river straits which create 'the boilers'. This part of the river also forms the barrier between the Carpathian Mountains in the north from the foothills of the Balkans in the south. Hills conquered, we ate our picnic lunch in Orsova along the riverbank of the port town before continuing.

The other side of 'the boilers' - if you look closely you can see a large cruise boat.

Decebalos, last Dacian king (1st century AD)

The next stretch of road was marked on our map as being busy with traffic, so we were prepared for the trucks and cars. What we weren't prepared for was a slight headwind and cycling next to a 50m drop with only a low stone bannister between us and oblivion. Every truck that goes past blows you just a little closer to that scary edge...

Anyway, we made it to Drobeta-Turnu Severin and when Neil suggested that perhaps we stop early (it was only 3pm) and see how much a hotel he'd seen signs for, with internet, would cost us, I agreed. He must have been able to see my still shaking hands. The Tudor Hotel cost us a very reasonable €45 for bed and breakfast and our room is larger than some tent pitches we've stayed on lately.

Dirty cyclist a bit lost in the plushness

So here we are, in Drobeta-Turnu Severin, only 935km upstream from the Black Sea. From here we are heading hell for leather across the flat lands of Romania until we reach the Black Sea. Don't expect to hear from us for a couple of weeks...

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words - Gabby; most photos - Neil