Posted by Dan, Alba Iulia, Romania

Salzburg, Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, Gyomaendrod, how do you pronounce that last place name, Krista? Gyomaendrod was of course a Hungarian town.

Germany was beautiful and Salzburg, the introductory city to Austria, was just as great. We made some fine friends there and stayed for a week, and it is by far my favourite city yet. It was in Salzburg that we received our first Poste Restante parcel – courtesy of Bram – had guided tours from Christine who kindly hosted us for that time, went on bike rides and had swims in mountain pools.

From there, we made a concerted effort to rejoin our original route and pick up the pace. The Danube is a great vehicle for cycle tourists and for those making longer journeys by bike, it’s an easy way to cross Europe from Germany to Bulgaria.

We followed its path across the north-east tip of Austria, the smallest slice of Slovakia and into Hungary, where, in Budapest, our love-hate relationship with this ‘radweg’ (bike path) ended. However, the track gave us the opportunity to meet some great people: our new friend Philip, who was making his first solo bike journey; Pushkar, who has been cycling around the world for 11 years for peace; and brothers Julien and Fred who are making a journey to Vietnam from Belgium.

After following it for ten days, Krista and I began to crave to be out on our own again, away from the crowd, searching out the heart of each country. When I am amongst hundreds of other visitors to a country, I feel as if I am non-distinct – just another tourist eager to spend. And like a walking dollar sign, we began to feel like a commodity, and as a result, we began to find it hard to make genuine connections with local people. So from Budapest, we chose our own path once again and began to see life without the polish and sheen put on for the tourists.

And our pace picked up… we took only one day’s rest in two weeks, crossing Hungary in five days.

The impact of Communism began to show itself in Slovakia. Many of the buildings were drab and grey, and there were lots of derelict factories and houses everywhere. People of the older generation were shy and protective, locked gates and aggressive dogs secured the perimeter of every house.

Hungary, for the most part, felt a featureless place – flat, hot and void of character. We pushed on hard everyday, past monotonous cornfields, sunflowers and genetically modified crops labelled by serial numbers.

However, at the end, our Hungarian experience was made in Gyomaendrod (how do you pronounce that again?) by Istefan and his family and friends. They invited us to join their meal of Hungarian goulash, cooked on the open fire in a huge pot. The evening we spent with them remains my favourite chance meeting so far, perhaps because I was still being encouraged to drink a shot of alcohol until I brushed my teeth for bed!

Before leaving Hungary, we took four days rest in a campsite in the border town of Gyula, just 20 kilometres from Romania. Unknown to us, we had entered Hungary’s tourist hotspot. Krista made a friend at the tourist office, a lovely woman named Ibi, and in their conversations, confirmed our suspicions that Hungary is fast becoming affected by consumerism and marketing, arguably desperate for a modern identity after Communism suppressed individualism.

We were lucky on our first night in Romania. We stopped at a church to ask for refuge and the priest and his wife were more than happy to help. Dana offered us a shower and priest Dan talked with us. Neighbour Nikolae insisted we would be more comfortable sleeping in his house, rather than in our tent in the church grounds. Priest Dan told me about life in Communist times, some 148,000 people were murdered in Romania – mostly intellects – such as doctors, writers, poets and priests and that it was compulsory to watch two hours of television a night, consisting of Communist propaganda. Aswell as this, people lived from meagre food rations and shops were bare. As a result, even now we’re seeing how resourceful people are – growing their own crops and keeping animals such as geese, chickens and pigs.

Now we’re taking a path that’s destined for the mountains. We’ve had some unbearable heat to deal with recently.

Click here to see our new photos of Austria!

Posted by Krista
Budapest, Hungary

We’ve met a few cyclists who are crunching figures, so now we’re halfway to Turkey, we thought we’d do the same.

Distance cycled: 2559 kilometres
Biggest day: 93 kilometres
Top speed: 73.2 km/h
Average distance cycled per day: 55 kilometres
16%: steepest hill up
14%: steepest hill down

Punctures: 4 (all on Dan’s back wheel)

Major cities: The Hague (Holland), Antwerp (Belgium), Cologne (Germany), Salzburg and Vienna (Austria), Bratislava (Slovakia), Budapest (Hungary)

Most surprising camping place: Lake Tinninger, Bavaria, Germany (we were heartened by a kind local man named Walter, who quite unexpectedly brought us a bottle of wine in the evening as we huddled in our tent in the rain, then he revisited us in the morning bringing fresh pretzels and croissants! He told us that “in former times” he camped a lot)

Most difficult language: Hungarian

Posted by Dan
On the river Traun, heading for the Danube, Austria

Last night we slept in the long grass again. Nature’s music was the ratcheting sound of crickets clicking their legs as they jumped around outside the tent. Gone is the gamelan music of the clanging alpine cowbells, now we enjoy the rapid buzz of dragonflies’ wings and the widening rivers as we descend from the mountains and ride towards Vienna.

The Alps have been an inspiring presence – majestic yet friendly – and a vision of the sights we may encounter in our future landscapes. We’ve enjoyed many detours to its lakes and peaks, however, in Salzburg we made a reluctant decision to leave the Alps behind and rejoin our original route through Eastern Europe.

Here on the river the early signs of Autumn have arrived and the first leaves are beginning to fall. Although we’ve already clocked 2000 kilometres, it’s time to cover more distance and reach Turkey before winter descends.

Posted by Krista
Munich, Germany

The road goes ever on and on,
Down from the door where it began –
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Whose many paths and errands meet.
And wither then? I cannot say.
TOLKIEN

Tolkien’s words, written in our new travel journal by Uli Grosskurth, are the perfect words to send us onwards. Our friends Jasper and Birthe departed last night for their bicycle ride through Hungary, Ukraine, Slovakia and Poland, we now are leaving the warmth and hospitality of the Grosskurth family, and riding towards Austria, still following the Alps.

Posted by Krista
Munich, Germany

Surfing on the ornamental river that runs through the Englischer Garden in Munich is a famous pursuit in the surfing world…

From Barbara’s studio, we had a wet and windy cycle ride that followed the line of the mighty Alps. Unfortunately, for most of the day we had no view as the low clouds obscured these mysterious mountains.

However, as we got close to our destination, the clouds dispersed … and we got the view we were waiting for! The fantastic sight of snow-capped peaks and jagged edges spurred us on, and we reached Hopfen am See.

We had been sent there by Barbara, who had given us the address of her friends, Ulla and Reinhold… We are so grateful and happy that everyone is looking after us so well!

We spent a fantastic four days with Ulla and Reinhold – sailing on their yacht around Forggen See with Captain Reinhold at the helm, mountain bike riding on dirt tracks into Austria, morning swims in the lake at the front of their house, sunset viewing and lots of photography. Ulla inspired us – she has been a food photographer since the Seventies and her work is published in many cook books.

If you’d like to see Ulla’s website, go to www.mayer-raichle.com

Posted by Krista
in the Allgau, the Alps, Germany

We made it to the Alps! And it’s been nice to get off the bicycle and walk in these spectacular mountains,,, although I suffered from a bit of vertigo when the edge of the mountain disappeared and the track became withered and thin! eeergh.

I also had a nervous few minutes when the cute Heidi cows with their clanging bells wanted to chase me on the summit of Steinberg. Was because I was wearing a red scarf on my head, or did they just like me?

Posted by Krista,
Kempten, Bavaria, Germany

“Hello Nic!”

In Kempten, we are taken in by my friend Nic’s parents… they are wonderful. Nic’s mum, Barbara cycles 30 kilometres with us to her art studio!

We spend a good few days at the amazing art studio, relaxing, walking, eating, sleeping, and we even make a sculpture with Barbara after an inspiring visit to an art exhibition in her friend’s garden!

To see more of this wonderful family’s work, visit
www.good-wolf-art.de

Posted by Krista
Ottobeuren, heading south to Kempten, Germany

Everyday in Germany we are always given the latest weather forecast by the people we meet! It seems like a big topic of conversation here! Rain is coming,,, the sun will arrive in 3 days,,, it will be cold,,, expect the wind from the south! And usually these predictions are correct… So when we found our perfect ‘camping platz’ next to the Iller river, we were dismayed to hear that a huge storm was on its way.

Well, we swam and lounged about in the sun anyway, hoping that this particular forecast wouldn’t come true. We even lit a fire to bake potatoes on. Just as the coals were beginning to go red, the sky darkened and rumbled, and before I could run for shelter, a deluge was upon us.

Dan was quick to duck into the tent, but the storm was so bad that I spent the first 20 minutes repegging the tent, afraid that it would blow away. We spent the next day climbing over trees that had fallen over our track!

That evening, for the first time on this trip, we hunkered down in Youth Hostel. Our room looked like a Chinese laundry as all our clothes and equipment hung to dry from lines we’d tied.

From here we are heading for Kempten, where the parents of a dear friend, Nic, live. I can’t wait to meet them and experience the place where Nic grew up.