Budapest northeast to Slovakia

The first time we cycled the Danube cycleway I thought it was quite exotic to cycle in Slovakia and Hungary. As it turns out, we were in a very tame and well-touristed part of Hungary. On this trip, after leaving Budapest we were really to get off the typical tourist route. However, the cycling was good, with many small and sparsely trafficked roads, great scenery, and very hospitable people. So here is how the next few days went...

Budapest back to Szentendre Island, near Vac, 44 km.
It was easy to cycle out of Budapest on the Danube cycleway, so we headed back north to Szentendre Island, back on one of the funny little ferries, and back past the strawberry stands. Although this route took us straight north, instead of northeast, it was a relatively easy exit from the big city. However, when we stopped at a tiny grocery market for dinner we were told our planned camping ground had been closed for years. So much for maps. We backtracked again, across the Danube to the west or south side to camp for the night, again in a fairly unsalubrious camping ground. Yes, the camping is getting pretty tiresome.

Vac to Gyongyospata, 83 km
Fom Vac we headed north and east, skirting the Matas hills, which are the highest hills in Hungary, although they are not that high - about 1000 meters or 3000 feet. It was raining and a little cold, and we ended up eating our sandwiches under the roof overhang of a grocery store. The manager came out and looked at us, and I thought she'd tell us to get out of the way, but she just smiled at us.
We cycled up and down the rolling hills, through farmland, getting wetter and wetter. At one point I stopped to walk up a hill, and a man came over from across the street and started speaking to me in Hungarian. I though maybe he was inebriated, but, no, he wanted to offer me some chocolate. He pulled out a big bar of chocolate from his pocket, broke off a piece, and handed it to me. Then he waved goodbye and walked back to his house. Maybe I looked kinda bleak at that point.
After a long, cold afternoon the sun peaked out and we arrived in a little town with a small market consisting of two aisles of groceries, mostly alcohol and sweets. Pasta again. At the campground, it turned out that the last Americans had been there eight years before. The owner and her family invited us into a bar area for a free "welcome drink" of Hungarian brandy and candy bars for Erich and Shea. They seemed genunely excited to have us there...great fun.

Gyongyospata to Eger, 66 km
Eger and its surroundings area in a big wine producing area of Hungary, and are famous for the Egri wines including one called "Bull's Blood." Although we did not sample that one, we have been having a bottle of wine with dinner, and 4.00 USD buys a pretty good bottle of wine.
Eger is a small town of about 60,000 people and has a castle, big churches, and a pedestrian street. We went into town for dinner as grocery stores were all closed on Sunday. Then we went back into town the next morning, when a thunderous downpour causd us to seek shelter in a covered cafe, where we had coffee and hot chocolate and waited out the worst of the rain.

Eger to Szilvasvarad, 31 km
On this leg we passed through the Bukk Hills, beautiful forested rolling hills. We were headed north and gaining altitude. The region was still rolling hills but now more oak and conifer forest with less vineyards.
We were clearly off the main tourist routes in this area, as townspeople looked at our train of bicycles Otwo tandems, two zsingles) with amusement, bewilderment, curiosity, lots of funny looks and smiles. This has been previously called the "Tandem Effect," on which pedestrians or folks on the street gawk at the tandem as it goes by, even stepping out in the street to look at it, thus stepping out right in front of the next bike, which is usually me. Fortunately there have yet to be any casualties directly related to the Tandem Effect, althoug I sometimes have to do some fancy maneuvers to avoid running over the gawkers.

The "S" town to Aggtelek, 70 km. Our last point in Hungary was the Aggtelek National Park area, which has alot of limestone karst and caves. The area is lovely. On the way to the campground we stopped at a ery small grocery store, and were waited on by a grama and her son. They clearly were not used to the amount of food consumed by hngry cycle tourists. We kept putting food on the counter, pasta, yogurt, beer, chips, apples, cereal, pretzels, hungarian waxpeppers and onions, and on and on. The Grama kept asking if that was all, and we kept saying not yet, and putting more stuff out there. Finally she decided we were easy marks, and started trying to sell us bottles of alcohol, vodka, scotch, brandy, she kept pointing to bottles and looking at us expectantly. We settled for wine and a couple of bottles of beer.
We went on a one hour tour of the caves. The tour was in Hungarian, but they gave us a small brochure in English which included the fact that there are some twenty species of bats living in the caves. The strangest part of the tour, therefore, was that we stopped in a large cavern where they played VERY loud new age rock music, much to the apparent discomforture of the bats, who flew around during the music. Wierd.

From here we headed north through Slovakia...even further off the regular tourist trail. Stay tuned. More from on down the road.

Where Is Erich Now

I am...

In Slovakia near the convergence of two rivers, the Vah and the Danube.

Where many troops have been: the place has been home to the Austro-Hungarians, Russians, and Slovaks, and withstood the siege of Turks. It was a very strategic point along the Danube.

And I'm in the biggest and most advanced military fortess of its time.

We had a great tour with Sylvia, our English-speaking guide. The history of this fortess is very interesting. And now I have a new email pen pal, George, who lives in Komarno.

This is Erich, reporting live from Slovakia.

Down the Danube: Vienna to Budapest

The same but different. That is how we found the area of the Danube from Vienna to Budapest. We had cycled this stretch of the Danube Cycleway eight years ago, in 2000, as part of a one month cycletour. This time, we were cycling with our good friends Muriel, Kelly, and their son Shea, who joined us in Vienna.
It was interesting how we did and did not recall parts of the trip, as we followed almost exactly the same route as before. We would ride along, saying, oh yeah, I remember this part, or, wow, I don't remember this at all. And since we were here in 2000, Slovakia and Hungary have both joined the European Union, which makes some very apparent differences in costs (everything was way more expensive), development (alot of new construction going on), relative ease of border crossings, and the amount and types of material good available. So....

Vienna to Petronell-Carnuntum, 56 km. We rode out of Vienna on the north side of the Danube, past the FKK or nudist area, past the area on which "grill zone" is painted on the asphalt path and folks were grilling meat to their heart's content, past numerous beer shacks, and past the sports area. We also rode past some sort of fireman's competition, where teams of firemen were competing laying out and connecting hoses on a big field. It was plenty hot, and their warm coats and metal hats with pointy tops added to the red faces of the competitors. I'm thinking of ecommending the metal pointy hats to the Ronan Fire Department.
We were riding into a stiff headwind, and it was hot, and after what seemed like an eternity of pedaling through the woods lining the Danube we came to a big bridge leading to the town of Hainberg, still in Austria. Up river we cycled to a very small campground that was actually the grassy side yard of the local tennis club. Warm showers and cold beers later, we were tired and ready for sleep.
Petronell to Bratislava 32 km. Border crossings just aren't what they used to be in the new EU countries. Eight years ago we had to have our passports checked on both sides of the Austria/Slovakian border, but this time there was no one at the station. We continued in to Bratislava (passing the pizza restaurant where we had stayed overnight eight years ago).
After finding a nice apartment near the river, we walked around the small historical part of the city, which seemed a little more prosperous and cleaned up than it did during our last visit.
Bratislava to Dunajska Streda, 70 km. On down the Danube on a multi use path along the river. The first ten miles or so there were many Bratislavans roller blading in rather skimpy clothing - well, it was a very warm day. We stopped at a beer stand where Tom and Kelly got to gawk at the girls in bikinis. Then, on down the river in a quieter section, past an oxbow lake. This is a very pretty section of cyclepath despite the presence of the ecological damage caused by Gabickova Dam and the concrete banks lining the Danube. We stopped at a small town just off the cycle path, and remembered that the last time we went in that same store there were a couple of cabbages, some bread, and some sausages and water on the shelves. This time there was a fairly well stocked Coop market. We camped at a pretty despicable and overpriced campground in Dunajska Strega, as there aren't many options around here.
Dunajksa Streda to Komarom, 83 km. And on down the river, along cycle path and busy highway, to the bridge from Komarom, Slovakia, to Komarno, Hungary. Not much of note on this section, as it is mostly flat and uninspiring. But the self-nominated campground hostess, an elderly German woman, brought us freshly brewed coffee in the morning n a tray complete with sugar and cream. She was amazingly kind to Erich and Shea, as well, giving them candy bars and letting them sit under her canopy while it rained. Some other Germans and Belgian couple loaned us a table and chairs to eat at...I don't know how we can ever possibly repay the many kindnesses we have been shown.
Komarom to Eztergom, 63 km. We started the day by returning to the Slovakian side of the Danube, where we toured around Komarno, a surprisingly interesting town. We ended up with a personal tour of the fortress in Komarno, which at the time it was built in the was the biggest and most modern military fortification in Central Europe. Our English-speaking guide walked us though the fortress and told stories of the various occupants. It was really interesting, as the fort had originally been built in the 1500s, and had included a big palace, which was then demolished as the fortress was expanded and remodeled. When the Russians occupied Slovakia in the 1950s and 1960s, 8000 soldiers were housed in the former barracks in pretty cramped conditions, while the officers lived out in the town in relative luxury. Our tour guide, who had grown up in the area, said the soldiers did not interact with the community at all. A huge amount of ammunition was stored in the old horse stables, and the fort was repainted with various Russian motifs and pictures of Russian soldiers, etc, which are still partially visible. When the Russians left in the early 1990's, about 200 Slovak soldiers were housed in a different building on the grounds, but the fortress was now in great disrepair and basically falling down, so much so that you have to tour with a guide to avoid the dangerous places. It was so interesting to hear first hand about the Russian occupation and exit, and then discuss this tume period with our children. The visit highlighted the many, many changes that Slovakia has experienced in a generation.
After the tour we headed on down following the marked Danube route to Eztergom, which has a castle high on a hill over the Danube bend.
Eztergom to Domos, 21 km, and the next day Domos to Szentendre, 33 km. The cycle route took us out on Szenendre Island via ferry, a funny old ferry with a boat lashed via metal cable to a small barge. The strawberry season was on, and after riding by several stands, the odor of fresh strawberries finally pulled us over. There was a smaall stand with a grama in head scarf and black wool skirt and rubber boots selling cherries and strawberries. Through sign language and a litle German she quoted us a price for small and large baskets of each. The son or son-in-law brought over a basket of freshly picked strawberries and cherries and gave us all some to sample. Delicious! Seriously delicious! We decided on a large strawberry box and a small bag of cherries, and gave her what we thought was the right amount of money. The grama kept asking for more, saying something in Hungarian and holding out 300 forints and shaking them at us. Her ? daughter came over and got in on the conversation, speaking rapidly in Hungarian and pointing to various baskets and the money box. The son-in-law shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and stayed in the background seeming to enjoy the situation. Finally after a lengthy discussion in three languages, pantomime, and writing down various costs and money that had exchanged hands, the grama and daughter said loudly, "OK!" and the son-in-law said "OK!" and we all laughed and said "OK!" and all was well.
After another ferry ride across the river we reached the town of Szentendre and our campground at about the same time as it started raining in great gobs. At the campground we cooked under a small shelter with ping pong tables. Ominous puddles started forming all over the grounds as the rain continued to fall through most of the night.
The next day we took a rest day in Szentendre, where we slept late, mosied around town, ate goulasch at a restaurant on the main square, and did some shopping. The town seemed more touristy than last time we were here. Heavy rain fell at times during the night, so we woke up to find the puddle near our tent had expanded greatly, and was starting to get close to the tent. Time to leave...
Szentendre to Budapest, 12 km plus a train ride. We decided to take the train in to Budapest to save some time and because it was still raining. We rented an apartment in Budapest - quite lovely, with two bedrooms and a nice kitchen/living room area. What luxury! We spent the next day touring all of the usual Budapest sights ,including going back to Gerbeaud's for Dobos Torte. The paliament and ther buildings alng the Danube are magnificent, and the art deco buildings in Pest were really great. See the picture of the happy Trickel-Sherwin family in Budapest at the castle overlooking the Danube and parliament building.
And, more from on down the road.

Where Is Erich Now

Mozart's grave is 400 steps below me
down below a blue river I see

In the park they are setting up for a soccer fan
I am going to eat a sacher tort while I can

We may not see the famous horses
but we may eat schnitzel in many courses.

On through Western Transdanubia.

Continuing our zig-zag across the area of Hungary known as Western Transdanubia, we spent two days riding on relatively flat terrain, in a headwind of course. If you follow any of these postings on a map, you will see we have been doing a circle of this region as we try to take in the sights and spend some time before we have to be in Vienna. A little zany, because a week ago from western Lake Balton we were told we could be in Vienna in a day. But....
Gyor to Hegyko, 78 km
Basically, at the end of a long day of riding, mostly on a fairly busy highway, we ended up in one of the worst campgrounds of the trip (it definitely made the Top Ten Worst List) and had to piece together dinner from a mini-store. The redeeming event was that a wine tasting event was going on in a small park across the street from the campground, where a quartet was playing American jazz. The local wine is called a Kefrankos, a red with a lot of tannin. But it was fun to have the vintners try to explain the local wines in a mixture of Hungarian, German, and English.
What puts a campground on the ten worst list? Well, it may be right on a main road -in this case our tent was along a fence, three feet from the main sidewalk and five feet from a main road. And the bathrooms may not be very clean, or may not have much hot water. Like this one. The campground manager may want us to put our tent in a muddy field. Also, there are often big overhead lights for security, and enough light in the tent at night to permit reading, like this site. However, as always there was a bright side, as the neighboring German campers, retirees again, were very nice and even loaned us camp chairs to sit on.
Hegyko to Sopron, just 21 km.
Are we looking like we're starving, or what? Once again, for the fourth time recently, as we rolled out of camp the retree Germans and Dutch gave us chocolate bars. We have been given apples, granola bars, cookies, hot chocolate mix, and other goodies. One lady was practically throwing food out her motor home window as her husband drove out of the campground.
We ate the chocolate as we reached Sopron, a medium sized town at the foot of a major wine producing area. Sopron was relatively wealthy in the 1300s, when it was made a roayl free town, which meant craftspeople were able to work without oversight and taxation by a feudal lord. The town's medieval center remains within circular stone town walls. Unfortunately many of the medieval buildings were destroyed in WW2, although alot has been restored. We mostly just wandered around and looked at buildings and the town walls, but also had some delicious cake in an outside cafe. It was a pleasant town, but maybe we were tired...do Tom and Erich look tired in the picture? We tried to find a room, and ended up in a huge apartment with four bedrooms, for the same price as a double room. Now that was luxury, especially after last night's camping.
Tomorrow we move on to Austria.

Lake Balaton to Gyor, Hungary

Camels, a "neoclassicist" library, and lots of ice cream: a few of the memories from the three days of cycling north from Lake Balaton to Gyor as we headed north in Hungary.
Balaton to Vezprem, 36 km. We left the cyclepath around Lake Balaton at Balatonalmadi, another small tourist village along the lake. Tom checked with the tourist information about routes, as it looked like we wuld be riding highway. However we followed the directions, riding smaller and smaller roads, uphill of course, thinking we were about to be lost again, when we saw a rail trail sign and ended up riding a very nice dirt road up to the town of Szentkiralyszabadja. (Really!). Rail trails, or old railroad beds converted to hike/bike trails, are great because they usually ascend using a gentle grade. So although I had been dreading the uphill climb on a highway, we ended up riding a great section along farms and fields. We had a little more uphill to the town of Vezprem, which has an old medieval center including ramparts from an old castle. King Saint Stephen, who christianized Hungary about 99. AD, came here with his wife Gisella - see the picture of Erich in front of their statues. On a more gruesome note, apparently in 1996, a bishop had the rather strange idea of reunitin King Stephen and Queen Gisella by bringing together their preserved hands... So King Stephen's handbone was brought from Budapest and Gisella's arm was brought from Germany and there was a ceremony in which their hand bones were fit together to commemrate the anniversary of their wedding. The holy relic thing is still a little outside of my realm of understanding. Anyway we ended the day at a camping ground right next to the zoo, so we could hear camel groans and see rhinos and zebras from our campsite. These particular camels seemed to be experiencing a great deal of indigestion...you get the idea.
Vezprem to Pannohalma, 78 km.
Lots of up and down through forests, along a fairly busy highway and then cutting off on a quieter side road - all beautiful countryside. We stopped to eat lunch at what looked like a Veteran's Memorial statue, which we see in almost every town. A man was raking and sweeping up newly cut grass , and at first I thought he was going to be upset at us for eating there. Instead he came over and talked to us in Hungarian for about five minutes. I think maybe he was explaining the memorial and that sort of ceremony was going to happen, or maybe he was critiquing our lunch. But he just kept smiling and talking very sincerely, even though we didn't understand a word of it. He refused our offer of a sandwich, indicating he was already full by patting his stomach. He kept working and talking to us, and we kept eating and smiling back, and we all waved like old friends when we pulled out.
We were headed to see Pannohalma Abbey, which is an old Benedictine monastery set on a hilltop. We had to ride up a steep uphill past the abbey and then down the other side to find camping. Note: Beware of campgrounds called "Scenic" or "Overlook", or in this case,Panorama Camping" turned out to be a stiff push uphill.
Pannohalma to Gyor, A short 24 km. We started the day by touring Pannohalma Abbey. This is another UNESCO world heritage site, established in 996 by King Stephen and still housing a small number of monks and an elite boarding school. We had to take a tour rather than just wandering, and the church and courtyards were pretty, but the library was stunning, with thousands of old books as well as globes and other antique items. Since Tom is a library fan, it was hard to get him out of there.
We then rode the short distance to Gyor, a nice city. Since we celebrated our 5000 km mark here, we stayed in a hotel which was a converted convent, very nice. And had two ice cream cones each, as well as dinner out at a restaurant on a barge on the river.
We then push on through Hungary...more from down the road.

Navigating across Hungary

Trying to navigate is always one of the challenges when cycletouring. The maps rarely seem to match the highway signs, which in turn do not match what we actually find. Even having several maps and trying to triangulate doesn't always help. Add to that language difficulties. The Hungarian language seems completely indecipherable, amd has 44 letters including 4 letters for u. The names of Hungarian towns are long and difficult to pronounce, adding to the confusion. So, route finding goes something like this.
We reach an intersection of several roads. We pull out the maps, usually figuring out where we are, but not sure which way to go next. So we look around for a friendly looking individual who looks like he or she is from the area, such as a cyclist, someone walking in the street of a town, or someone in their garden. Sometimes this is a grama in long skirt, wool socks and heavy shoes, and scarf. Or a middle aged man gardening in a speedo.
We pull up on the bikes, and Tom pulls out the maps and starts to walk over. The person or persons looks up a little suspiciously ('who are these people and what do they want?'). Stacey and Erich hold the bikes and try to smile disarmingly ('just another family of lost American cycletourists, no threat here.') Tom walks over with the map, folds it open, and points to where we think we are, speaking in English and saying, we think we are here. The person(s) peers at the map, and sometimes discusses it with other bystanders, and after a minute or so there is general agreement that indeed, that is where we are. They all nod their heads. Then Tom says, "and we want to go to (names place, at least how we think it might be pronounced)" and points to the place on the map. The people scratch their heads, looking confused, look at the map, and say something which must mean, oh, such and such a place, with the real pronunciation. This is followed by much discussion or thinking, and then an attempt at giving diections. If there are two or more Hungarians giving directions, they often have a discussion about something...('Which way should we send them? What is the best way to get them out of here?') The directions usually involve waving of hands, pointing to the map, tapping on the pavement or dirt to indicate road surface, sometimes waving of fingers or headshaking or drawing pictures in the dirt. They speak to us in fast Hungarian, combined with a few words of German, and peer at us to see if we appear to understand. If we look confused they keep talking, adding more gestures, finger wagging, arm waving, and pointing. At some point Tom tries to repeat the directions in English, gesturing right, left, drawing circles in th air for roundabouts. When we appear to have it, our direction consultants smile and nod. And we smile and nod, say thank you in Hungarian (one of the few Hungarian words we have managed to learn), get back on the bikes, and ride off. Everyone waves goodbye...ah, another successful intercultural encounter.
And so we made our way from Lenti to Heviz (80 km). We rode both small windy roads and the highway. The highways were lightly trafficked, mostly semis driving west toward Slovenia. Tom already recounted our encounter with the Bulgarian truck driver who stopped to ask us directions to Slovenia. The terrain was gently rolling hills and forests, very peaceful. We pulled into Heviz in the late afternoon with clouds threatening rain. Heviz is a resort town with a thermal lake...the whole lake is warm, with floating pink water lilies and long walkways out into the water from turn of the century bath houses built right on the lake. Again, the campground had lots of German and Austrian retirees there to take the water. We didn't swim as the weather was cold and windy.
At this point we were close to Lake Balaton, a very large freshwater lake in western Hungary. For two days we rode the cycle path along the northern shore of the lake, whichwas quite nice. There are some cute resort towns, such as Tihany, a small picturesque town set on a peninsula jutting into the lake. There are many campgrounds and hotels along the lake and it obviously a hugely buy area in high season. The area has many vineyards on the surrounding hillsides and is known for its Balaton white wines. However the lake itself didn't seem that great. It is very shallow and cloudy, with mostly reedy beaches. Many of the businesses were still closed for the season although it was almost June, giving a ghost town appearance to many of the villages, although during the day there were busloads of tourists in places like Tihany. The weather was cold and raining when we left Heviz, so we stayed in a room one night, then camped the next as we worked our way along the lake. (Heviz to Badascauny, 39 km, Badascauny to Balatonfuhred, 52 km)
From the northeast corner of the lake we turn north and continue working our way to Vienna. More from down the road...

Into Slovenia

From Croatia, our route was to take us through Slovenia and Hungary to Vienna, where we are scheduled to meet some friends at the end of May.
But first, we had to get to Slovenia from Croatia, which was a small saga unto itself. We wanted to take a train or bus from Rijeka, Croatia, to Ljubjana, the capitol city of Slovenia, both to save time and because the ride was a long uphill ride. A tourist agent in Croatia called the train station for us, and we were told, no bikes on the train. The tourist agent and the customer in the office recommended a bus, saying buses would often transport bicycles.
We got up early on Sunday morning to ride the coast highway from Krk, crossing the new bridge to the mainland. We hoped there would not be too much traffic on Sunday, as this is a major north-south highway. Traffic was pretty steady, as was the uphill grade and the wind was gusting. We passed some indutrial areas and one cute town and then were in town fairly easily - about 20 km.
But, in Rijeka we were informed by a fairly unhelpful and haughty bus station attendant that there is no bus to Ljubjana. We hemmed and hawed about whether to just cycle, and decided to try the train station. There, the ticket agent told us the conductor sells tickets for bicycles. We bought people tickets and went out to the platform, where the Slovenian cycletouring couple we had met the day before were loading their bikes into the front compartment of a small train. We went to the rear and started loading our bikes there, and when the conductor arrived, he nodded and informed us that we would pay 20 kuna per bike, about US 4.50. We put all of our bags in a compartment, and asked if that was OK because it was labeled first class. The conductor, who spoke no English, put the bicycle fee in his pocket, and motioned for us to stay there. So far, so good.
At the Croatia-Slovenia border the train stopped, and border agents from both countries walked the train looking at passports. Then a Slovenian train conductor got on, and it was immediately obvious that he wasn't happy with the bicycle situation, as he looked at me and said something in Slovenian, with a dour look on his face. In fact, he reminded me of Barney Fife, from Andy of Mayberry...not to date myself! I said, "Excuse me?" and he said emphatically,"Problem. In Slovenia don't do this." He then Shhok his head, looked glum, collected Euro 2.69 for each bike, issued bike tickets, and indicated with a pointed finger and rolling eyes that we should move to a second class section of the train, even though there was no one in first class and there was no obvious difference in the sections. We carried all the gear down two cars to second class, noting that the Slovenian couple was no longer on the train. The train moved on, and the conductor remained peeved at us, with dour looks and much head shaking until we arrived in Ljubjana about an hour later. Oh well, we were there.
Ljubjana is a very nice city, with a large historical center set along a river. The snow-covered Slovenian Alps are visible from the city, forming a backdrop for the cathedral, hilltop castle, and the many art nouveau buildings. The picture is of the doors to the cathedral. We ate lunch at a borek stand - a kind of meat or cheese/spinach pastry, cheap. There was alot more to see but we caught the bus back to the campground to get organized with the route across Slovenia.
Note to other cycletourists: apparently the train cars that hold bicycles are not added until about the first of June. Until then, it is hit or miss whether or not you are allowed to take bikes on the trains. I don't know when they take those cars off the system in the fall.

Across Slovenia: Ljubjana to Lenti

As Erich noted in another posting, we really didn't know anything about Slovenia before getting there. Tom had ridden in the former Yugoslavia some 20 years ago, but didn't really even remember his route. This section of the ride was surprisingly great, despite some very steep sections and a couple of long days. I hadn't expected to like Slovenia, but I found it to be a cycle-friendly country with warm and hospitable people, and changing terrain that made cycling interesting. The Slovenian Tourist Board publishes a brochure of recommended cycle routes but we did not follow these. Instead, it was relatively easy to pick routes following smaller roads most of the way.

Many people spoke some English, which made route finding easier. I was also surprised by what seemed to be a fairly prosperous country: there were many new houses being built that would be considered very nice by American standards, many new cars including quite a few SUVs and just a general sense of new-found prosperity.

Ljubjana to Prebold, 77 km
The next morning we headed East, following a main road with a bicycle path out of town and then taking then "yellow roads" or smaller side roads. Although there are bicycle paths, they are not labeled and it was difficult to find our way out of the city quickly, despite stopping to ask directions several times. However we were then into fairly flat farm country in a river valley, which rapidly became hillier. And hillier. Pretty, though, with church steeples and forests and lots of hay racks, which are apparently special to this area. Then very hilly, then we turned in Izlake and had one short but very steep section that was a 10% grade. From the top we swooped down and were on a nice low-traffic road near the freeway. We took a small detour to see a church with a candy-apple red spire, and ended up meeting a Slovenian woman who spoke good English and invited us in for drinks (beer for Tom and Stacey, black current juice for Erich) and her mother brought us out palascintas (like crepes) with chocolate sauce and whipped cream...yummy, especially because we were starving by then. We left and rolled down through the valley past many hop fields...this valley, the Sava, is known for hops production apparently. We stayed in a campground near the highway, noisy as usual.

Prebold to Ptuj, 90 km
This was a big tough day, with hills, hills, and more hills, including several steep grades. Tom and Erich rode them, even the 16% grade, but I walked quite a few sections. It was still beautiful countryside, with lots of forest, and I had plenty of time to contemplate that beauty on the slow slogs up the hills. We were hearing cuckoo birds in the woods, but they apparently can't tell time, because they weren't just cuckoing on the hour...bad joke. We finally got to Ptuj, which is pronounced just like the spitting noise...The campground there is a big resort or therme, with lots of pools of warm water, some inside and some outside, and water slides. The price of camping includes admission to the therme and water park, and we ended up staying an extra day to sight see in Ptuj, with a small historical center and castle, but mostly so Erich could play in the water park. The campground was again full of German retirees who came to "take the water" and they wandered around in their bathrobes and bath sandles, and frequently stopped by our site to ask where we were from and talk to Erich. He was quite a hit in this campground full of grandparents.

Ptuj to Moraske Toplice, 67 km
From Ptuj we headed east toward Moraske Toplice, where there is another therme and camping ground. There wasn't much to see in the town itself, and the campground was another of the big resorts with water park and mineral baths. Erich made some buddies in the water park, and had a great time. Tom and Stacey got in some water rides too: see the picture.

Moraske Toplice to Lenti, Hungary, 38 km
We woke in the night to rain on the tent, but the rain had turned to light sprinkles by morning. As it was Sunday morning there was almost no traffic, so we made good time to the Hungarian border. Again, there were buildings from the former border controls, but no one in them. And once in Hungary the roads seemed deserted but ther were parking lots full of semi trucks sitting out the day. We thought maybe the customs were closed, or there is a law against driving big trucks on Sunday, or.... Anyway there was a bike path from the border to the resort town of Lenti. On the bike path two Hungarian men were walking with speedos and their t-shirts rolled up to chest height as they patted huge bellies. Welcome to Hungary? We will see, as we continue through Hungary for the next week.

Croatia in Five Days....

Croatia. Hot, hilly, and lots of traffic. Absolutely no shoulder to the road. Not terribly cycle-friendly. But oh, those beaches...every bit as beautiful as they have been described, with crystal clear water and blue, blue vistas. Due to time constraints we only had five days there...but to be honest, if I go to Croatia again it will not be on a bicycle. Sailboat, maybe?
Here is how the five days went...
Muggia to Portoroz 45 km
The old border station loomed ahead of us as we exited the campground in Muggia, Italy, but the buildings are empty now that Slovenia is part of the EU. You could actually see Croatia off in the distance, but we needed to round the Slovenian coast first - all 47 km of it. After riding a very quiet road along the coast through farm country, we flagged down a road cyclist to get directions to the town of Koper. As usual, the map did not match the reality of the roads we saw, and we were worried about how to avoid the busy freeway. Just after a fork in the road, one way leading to the freeway and another down under the freeway, we saw a sign with a bicycle logo and the number D8. Hmmm...a bicycle path. Cool. The bicycle path led us through Koper (cute town, lunch at a restaurant right on the water) and turned into an old rails-to-trails, or railbed converted to bike and hiking path. The railway used to connect Trieste with Porec, a Croatian port to the south on the Istrian peninsula. Now, it winds its way through the hills beside vineyards, through tunnels, past farms and scrub forest. Finally we descended down to the cast, and checked one campground, where they basically wanted us to push our bikes up a steep hill and camp on a small dirt terrace right next to the busy highway. We passed, got back on the bike trail, and headed to the resort town of Portoroz, where the campground wasn't much better...but we were tired. The large port was full of expensive yachts and big sailboats, many flying German flags. The noise from the casino across the harbour echoed over the water until very late. Hard to sleep in many of the campgrounds. Ugh.
> Portoroz to Umag 38 km
After getting a little lost and a little irritable, we got back on the bicycle path/old railway grade the next morning. We passed the old salt ponds which were used for centuries to dry sea water for salt, a major industry in the past.
We cruised along the bike path, which was very nice, until I noticed that the Slovenian\Croatian border had uniformed officers, and was over there on the other side of some trees and bushes and we were cycling right past it. Probably could have rolled right past, but I was worried about what would happen if we didn't have the right passport stamps. So we cut back through some bushes and around and through a parking lot and got properly stamped and inspected.Border agents are generally amused when our small caravan rolls through. But I don't know how amused the Croatian agent was when Tom asked directions back to the bike path. A little more riding and we were up a hill, down to a town called Umag, and then in a nice quiet campground right on a beach. Erich watched some German retirees squidding as the sunset over the water.
Umag to Porec 36 km
A mostly unremarkable day. The town of Porec is set on a small peninsula jutting outinto th sea, and there were many tourists and fairly agressive shop owners. The historical section of town was small but quaint. We rode on a bicycle path on the coast through parks and past resort areas to a very large campground where, after some connving, we also put our tent up close to the beach, and also close to the FKK, or naturist, or nude area, which wasn't being used as such because it was cool and windy. Many of the Croatian campgrounds seem to have naturist areas bordering the clothed areas, marked by signs of figures with or without bathing suits. So far, Erich is OK with all of it.
Porec to Zminy 47 km
We decided to cut across the Istria, which is a heart-shaped peninsula with a hilly interior. We rode up a designated bike route which turned out to not be as steep as I had feared. The countryside was sparsely populated with lots of vienyards and oak/scrub forest, dotted with small towns. Almost every house had a small garden with grapes, tomatoes, onions, lettuce, and peppers. Many old women were out working fields and gardens in scarves, sweaters, and wool socks rolled half way down their legs. We stopped once to ask directions of such a woman, who waved us on one direction and vividly shook her finger, "no," to the other direction, smiling a fairly toothless smile and talking rapidly in a mixture of Croatian and Italian. After a few moments of hesitation we decided to follow her gestures, and headed down what turned out to be the correct road. There was a long downhill and then steep uphill in and out of a river valley, and with the ruins of a castle half way up.
The interior of Istria seems mostly unaffected by the massive tourist development on the coast, and we enjoyed the glimpse into a more traditional Croatian lifestyle. We spent the night in an apartment arranged by the very helpful tourist office.
Zminy to Cres 75 km
This was one long, tough day. From Zminy we rode a quiet road and then a busier one, hen a very steep descent with aching arm s from braking our heavy bikes. A short ferry hop, then we had a 10 km steep climb...OK, I walked parts of it. The sun was roasting us on the west facing slope, and there were few trees. The views were fantastic, with the blue sea, terraced hill,olive trees and goats. I haven't been to Greece but this is what I think Greece might look like. Some flat across the crest of the island, and then, horrors, another fairly steep uphill climb. Then a short steep descent into Cres town, where we crept into the campground and collapsed.
Cres to Omilsalj, 47 km
We started the morning with a very steep up, then down, then up, then down to the ferry terminal where we caught a ferry to the island of Krk. We met two Spanish cycletourists, Carol and Robert, and we were all amused by the wedding party on the short ferry ride. There was an accordion player, another old guy banging a stick with bells and goat hoofs, people doing the polka and toasting each other and the bride and groom, and all the Croatians were getting in the party mood with old ladies hauling themselves up to dance together.
Once on Krk, up, down, up, down, hot, and a busy road. We were headed to a campground shown on the map, but once in the small town of Omisalj most of the people seemed somewhat, ahem, inebriated, and the directions were not too clear. Well, it was Saturday evening. Finally found the campground, which came with a chair for Erich to use while doing his homework...see the picture!
Omisalj to Rijecka
Very warm morning, with a stiff wind, a headwind of course. This was our one secton of riding the very busy coastal highway on Croatia, and I was glad not to be riding more of it. Mostly a gentle uphill to the city of Rijeka, past some industrial areas and then around and into th city. It looked like a nice town but we saw very little of t, as we were trying to find a bus or train to Ljubjana, Slovenia. But that is the next story...
So the was our short Visit to Croatia.
More from Slovenia...

What Did Erich See Now?

Has to do with fires,
evenings, and winter.

So when the servants are playing the lyres,
the others don't have to interrupt.

Slovenia

Before I came to Europe I didn't even know that Slovenia existed. Slovenia is now part of the European Union, so that means that the country has less trade restrictions and has the same currency as much of the rest of Europe.

Slovenia is a small country and is located south of Austria, west of Hungary, east of the top of Italy, and north of Croatia. It has 47 kilometers of coast, along the top of the Adriatic. The biggest city is 300,000 people, Ljubljana, the capital. Slovenia is really hilly and has lots of forests. There are also many natural areas like national parks, and many thermal spas.

Some of the specialty foods are: Boreks (flaky pastry with meat or cheese), palascintas (pancakes ith chocolate sauce or nuts), and in the grocery store there are rows and rows of sausages.

The people spoke a surprising amount of English and were mostly really nice. There were alot of tourists there, mostly Germans. I liked Slovenia alot for being invisible to me before I came to Central Europe.

Cycling around the north of the adriatic...

When last you met these intrepid travellers, we were swatting mosquitoes in a campground on the shore of Venice Lagoon and planning our route north around the top of the Adriatic Sea. Getting out of Venice proved a feat worthy of Marco Polo. After that, the next few days was easy riding.

Fusina to Jesolo Lido, 80 km.
We woke up to a light rain and got a later start than hoped. We had planned to take a ferry from Venice to a sandy point north of the city, where we could bypass the industrial area of the mainland around the lagoon. As we turned onto the Venice causeway the traffic intensified with shuttle buses, tour buses, city buses, trucks, cars, whew. After a bit we found a cycle path which went a bit then abruptly stopped. A man directed us around through an industrial park and several turns, leaving us in an area of parking lots and buses disgorging tourists. We ended up back on the causeway, and at one point stopped and decided we should just cycle around Venice on the mainland. But no going back, as that would have meant riding against all that traffic and there is about a four inch shoulder on the road. After a bit a bike path appeared along the causeway, with a rusty guard rail between traffic and us. There were quite a few places where the guard rail was pushed in, from accidents I think...not reassuring. It was fun to see Venice from a different angle, though. Once across the causeway we managed to get turned around and started back on the causeway with the traffic, a bike path appeared and then after a bit just stopped and dumped us out in the road again where we found two Dutch cycletourists by the side of the road trying to figure out how to get across all the traffic and south. (We had seen other cycletourists headed on both sides and both ways and all looked confused. Venice needs to figure out a better system for cyclists.) We took a busy offramp right, over some bumps and down a ramp to a highway, again lots of traffic but we proceeded north, some fun. Past the airport the traffic lessened but the sign said no bicycles so we detoured away from the coast, through farmland and swampland, we each got a flat tire and it was pretty but we had not much idea where we were. Finally we saw some road signs and figured out a direction. At the end of the day we are in a campground in resort community, Erich is playing with a Dutch boy, Tom is writing in his journal, and I am nursing some sort of bottled Bacardi lime drink.

Jesolo Lido to Bibione, 65 km
Bibione to Acquilea, 65 km
We are planning our route to end up in a campground each night. Most of the campgrounds on the Italian coast are huge places with stores and shops, restaurants,sometimes hotels, and zillions of people packed on top of each other. They often have private beaches for the campers, and at one point Tom estimated 10,000 beach chairs in one area. You have to rent the beach chairs and umbrellas to sit on the beach, and it is not cheap. Anyway, this was two days of mostly nice cycling, Although sometimes we were on the fairly busy highway that follows the coast. The area is very flat and has numerous rivers draining across, so we had to make numerous jigs and jogs arund canals and rivers, each requiring a stop to check the map, as the road signs often just list the name of one of the towns down that road - not necessarily a big town or a close town, but just someplace out that way, or at least in that general direction. Which makes navigation interesting... Ah, here comes the campground train, which is playing the Macarena and taking the kids on a ride around the campsites. Erich is smiling as he rides around... He looks embarassed, too, but any diversion is better than another hour on the bike today!

Aquilea to Sistiana, 33 km
Aquilea is a small town inland and just about at the nrthernmost point of the Adriatic. The town was a large Roman city once, with an estimated 100,000 people and a major port. Now it is a sleepy little town except for the main road which is congested with cars full of holiday-makers on their way to the beaches just south. The basilica there is famous for its "PaleoChristian" mosaic floors which were done about 400 AD. The floors were very interesting, with many early Christian motifs and other designs. There were also a few remnants of the old Roman harbor. We stayed in a small and very quiet campground right in town.

Sistiana to Trieste (and now Muggia), a short 22 km
The terrain on the eastern side of the Adriatic abrubtly becomes hilly and covered with pine and hardwood forest. In fact, the campground in Sistiana, another huge resort place, is called Mar Pineta, or Piney Sea. We had our usual lunch break of cheese sandwiches in a park, and then climbed along the hills. On Sunday morning there is a marathon, apparently a big Italian race attracting international runners, and we are told on Saturday night that the road to Trieste will be closed all morning. We get out to the campground gate the next morning around 10:30, and the runners are going by, but they let us cycle along the side of the road, so there we were cyling to Trieste in the middle of thousands of runners. It makes for great cycling though, as the road runs along the pine-clad hills just above the sea, and there is no car traffic. It was even more crazy when we reach Trieste, as there is a family walkathon and various levels of running competitions and the whole place is mobbed. We walked around a little bit, and saw the architecture which is a combination of Italian and Balkan and Austro-Hungarian, because the town has been conquered by various rulers over time, each adding their architectural and cultural influence. Mid-afternoon we take a small ferry across the bay to the small port town of Muggia, thus avoiding the ugly industrial area of southern Trieste. That puts us in a campground right on the Slovenian border. The owner is an affable fellow who let us put up the tent right near the beach, where all of the other campers can walk by and stare at us. Most people seem to think we are German and completely daft at that. Oh, well...I tend to agree with the "daft" label at this point.

Tomorrow it is on to Slovenia.

More from on down the road!

Where Is Erich Now

Erich's Venice:
My experience in Venice was an awesome one. One of my highlights was
watching a man blow a glass pitcher on Murano Island. Another was the
cathedral
in Piazza San Marco. I liked the tiled dome in the cathedral.
It was interesting to watch the cool highschoolers
pull out their ultra cool white speedboats and slowly cruise along the
canal. Another interesting fact is that all of the palace's front doors
opened out to the canal. The Grand Canal was busy yet still beautiful.
Bridge #4 was the best bridge. It was very wide, with two lines of shops
in the middle with a set of steps in the middle and on either side. I
thought I would like to live in Venice until Mom reminded me that you
can't ride a bike there.

Stacey's Venice:
In my travels, many places have not lived up to my expectations. Some
places are better than expected, such as Rome. I could have stayed there
for weeks. Other places are disappointing, such as Florence. But Venice
was just as one pictures it, with old decrepit buildings opening onto the
canals, gondolas and traghettos, bridges of all sizes and different
constructions, and water everywhere.
We had a great time wandering on the small streets, taking the traghetto
up the grand canal, and eating gelato. The museums had beautiful art by
Titiano and other Venetian masters, in fact it was hard to escape all of
the art. Piazza San Marco was lovely and predictably crowded, but I guess
no where as crowded as it gets in the summer; someone told us that they
actually close the island to further tourists in the summer, becaus it is
so crowded.
While tourist-watching provided lots of laughs, there were some other
wierd parts. For instance there is a set of city laws governing behavior
in Piazza San Marco: no sitting in the piazza (except at the cafes), no
eating (except at the restaurants), no playing games, and there are
brigades of elderly women wandering around getting peple to stand up and
get rid of their snacks.
The only disappointment was that none of the gondoliers were singing any
opera...Verdi, anyone?

Galeria Ferrari

The Ferrari gallery was amazing. The whole bottom level was dedicated to
F1.
There were loads of engines and cars from almost every year. There was a
20*8 ft room with walls dedicated to photos of every Ferrari car ever
made including F1 and competition cars. My favorite part was, just at the
top of the stairs to the right, was the vicious, fast, and streamlined
thing of an Enzo Ferrari, the first of two road going F1s. For anyone who
likes classic cars, or just Ferraris, this is a great place.

Cycling the Po Valley

It is sundown in this campground on the shore of the Venice Lagoon. The
setting sun reflects off the domes and towers of the city, while cruise
ships and container ships head out to sea. Meanwhile over in the
campground cafe/bar the action is really picking up, as families, young
couples, and retirees from many countries eat pizza and drink while
swatting at mosquitos. We are eating french fries, trying to get in more
calories to asuage our hunger after the last few days of cycling.
The Po Valley is aa great area for cycle touring, as it is a bicycle
friendly area, relative flat, with lots to see.
On Thursday 4/19 we took a train from Assisi to Modena, a small city west
of Bologna. The train trip required four train changes but fortunately we
didn't have to haul the bikes up and down between platforms as there were
elevators which were large enough to fit bicycles - just barely. Once off
the train in Modena we got a little flibberdigitated trying to find our
way our of the station and into the town. As Tom wrote, we were
immediately impressed with the number of bicycles everyhere. It is great
to see the elderly men and women tooling down the road on their bicycles,
carrying groceries, flowers, small appliances....
We got a lot of smiles and "bravo's" as we rode through town, especially
from the older men. One man invited us for coffee in the main piazza, and
bought Erich a gelato. The campground was about five miles out of town.
We ended up eating in a trucker's restaurantnext to the campgound;
waiters came around with huge platters of pasta and kept loading up our
plates, and that was
just the first course!
Just south of Modena lies Marinella, where the Ferrari factory and
Ferrari Galleria are located. Marinella was on Erich's "hit list" for the
trip, so he was pretty excited. We cycled the 17 miles down to the
Galleria, but I'll let Erich describe the museum itself. Ouch! Those
Ferrari souvenirs are expensive, so we passed on the t-shirts.
After a cold and rainy night in the tent, we woke up in the middle of a
puddle. The sun was out, though, so we packed up and rode into Modena,
where there was a special Tribute to Enzo Ferrari being held. There were
Ferraris and Maserattis and Paganis in the town piazzas. We tried to see
the cathedral, which is supposed to be quite beautiful, but it was
closed. However we did see the Leaning Tower of Modena.
Modena - Bologna 63 km. It was after noon when we cycled out of Modena
toward Bologna. To avoid the "red roads" or main highways we cycled the
long
way around, and ended up riding past the Lamberghini factory, to Erich's
joy. The roads are flat as a margvherita pizza (Erich's favorite) in the
valley, and folks were
friendly as we stopped them to ask directions. The campground was about 5
km from town and a bit of a hairy ride on a main street at rush hour.
The next day, Sunday, we took a bus from the campground and walked around
Bologna, a lovely city. And, who'd have known there is a leaning tower of
Bologna, too? We climbed the 498 steps up to the top of the tower for a
terrific view of the city, laid out in a circle within the city walls.
There were many beautiful red stone buildings, and the main piazza was
also beautiful, surrounded by the cathedral, old government buildings,
shops, and cafes. Erich is big on sitting in streetside cafes and playing
cards, so we did just that.
We woke early Monday morning to a hard rain, and decided to take another
city day rather than riding through the downpour.
Bologna - Ferrara, 70 km. Again we took small side roads, although it
would have been much faster to ride the red roads.
Ferrara calls itself the Bicycle Capital of Italy, with many kilometers
of paved bicycle paths and bikes everywhere. It is also a lovely city,
built around a historic core of castle and cathedral. We visited one of
Lucrezia Borgia's homes, stumbled around town, and ate gelato. Erich had
a good pasticchio for lunch - puff pastry baked around a sort of macaroni
and cheese - welll, maybe you had to be there.
Ferrara - Lido de Pampona, 104 km.
We left Ferrara on bike path to the Po River, and followed the Po Destra
(Right side of the Po) Bike Path for about 30 km along the dike of the
river. The river itself was swollen from all the rain, with a lot of
debris. At Berra we cut southeast through farmland, mostly grass,
vineyards, and grains I think. Many people have small gardens with
artichokes, lettuce and onions, and fruit trees, making me hmesick for my
gaden. We wandered around a bit, aiming for the
Abbaye of Pamplona, which was a starred attraction on our maps as it was
an
important abbey in the 13th century. We passed on paying the entrance fee
at the abbey, but the guard let us peak through the doors at the frescos
and tile flooe mosaics. After a final 15 km into a brisk headwind we
arrived at the
beaches of the Comacchio Lagoon area. The lagoon was tranquil but the
Lido or beach, was not... The campground was one of those huge camping
villaggio place with hundreds of caravans, stores, swimming pools, yikes
is this camping? We dipped out feet into the Adriatic for the first time.
Cold!
Lido de Pamplona to Chioggia, 77 km. Since this area is a large river
delta, we ended up trying to navigate around the canals, rivers, and
wetlands, mostly in a headwind. While the farmlands and small towns were
pretty, it felt like we weren't getting anywhere. In fact, it got pretty
darn frustrating to see the mileage signs, 35 km to Chioggia, then ride
an hour and see the sign, Chioggia, 37 km. So we gave up on the back
roads and juat took the dreaded red road straight north. This was a big
holiday weekend, something like Italian Independence Day, so there were
gazillions of RVs and motorcycles on the road but perhaps less big
trucks. We finally reached the port town of Chioggia, which has many
campgrounds. It was "opening weekend"
at this campground, so many Italians were setting up their sites for the
season. They pay for a site for the summer, and then come every weekend
to hang out on the beach and sleep in their trailers. It was amazing to
see the sites developed;
people were hauling in truckloads of outdoor furniture, refridgerators,
mattresses, and canvas canopies, fixing outdoor sinks, and building
special wooden floors and stone patios. Quite entertaining to watch!

Chioggia - Fusina, just outside Venice. 76 km.
We had planned to take a ferry from Chioggia to the barrier
island, or Lido, and then on into Venice. But it turned out the ferry
would be about 70 euros - too much money. We decided to cycle, and ended
up doing another long day of detouring around through C'a Bianca, along a
canal, but then road construction further flummoxes us and we wind around
getting a bit lost, and after hours of riding it is still closer to
Chioggia than Venice. AArgh! Finally we flag down a road cyclist, ask
directions, and he offers to guide us to Fusina. Whew...he leads off at a
brisk pace and takes us on a route we never would have found, around
another canal, through the small fishing port of, at one point onto a
main highway marked with a no bicycles sign, all at a brisk clip tha
leaves me gasping to keep up. Finally we arrive in the town of Fusina and
then at the busy campground.
So, here we are at a campground looking across Venice Lagoon. The jets
descending above me are headed for Marco Polo International Airport. The
traghetto, or small ferry, is headed into Venice. And who knows the
destination of the huge container vessels just offshore. We are headed
into Venice tomorrow, ane then north around the top end of the Adriatic.
More from down the road!!!

Where Is Erich Now

If the picture doesn't give it away
maybe this will make you say hey!

Way up in the sky
As I look down,towards the ground,

When I looked down
There was no wall!

And that is why
I jumped away with a bound

I jumped away because,
There was nothing at all!

It was said, Galileo was here,
He dropped two balls

And made a rule of physics,
As he watched them fall

It's the Plaza of Miracles
I wanted to go there about a ton

Many have been there
I am now one.

Erich and Co.

Bicycles Are Back

We hopped on a train and left the hills of Umbria and Tuscany behind.
After a day on the rails and three changes of trains we're now on the Po
river plain in Modena. In at least one way this area is vastly different
from where we've been since arriving in Spain. In Spain and Southern
Italy motorscooters were everywhere. Outside the train stations it was
motorscooters. Around the city squares it was motorscooters. Everybody
from kids to elderly ladies in dresses and heels rode them.

Now that we are North of the Apennines the bicycles are back.

While switching trains in Bologna we saw covered bike parking full of
bicycles. I put the tandem back together outside of indoor locked bicycle
parking. Standing by a square in Modena, while Stacey gathered
information at the Tourist office, I easily saw more people riding
bicycles than I have in the past four months. Like north of the Alps
everybody was doing it from kids to elderly ladies in dresses and heels.

It's good to be back where bicycles are an accepted and well used part of
the transportation equation.

The Sorrento Penninsula and Beyond

We're riding through a town of six to seven story high rises with laundry
hanging from almost all the windows. The street is narrow and made of
foot square pavers. People are shouting at each other from the balconies,
from the streets and from the cars. Ahead of us two cars going in
opposite directions pass a double parked car while a motorscooter
squeezes between them. Welcome to bicycling in Southern Italy.

After a day of riding from Pompei to Sorrento it has become quite clear
that all rules of the road, at least the ones we recognize, are
considered to be very loose suggestions by Italian car drivers.
Motorscooter drivers don't even consider the suggestions. They are
everywhere, darting in and out, passing into oncoming traffic around
curves and everybody treats it as normal. The rules for parking, if there
are any, must come from a different dimension. Cars are double parked,
angle parking and parallel parking mix in the same block, busses stop in
the middle of the road to let passengers off and delivery trucks block
the whole road while the drivers delivers their goods. The oddest part of
it all is that it somehow manages to work. Perhaps traffic doesn't flow
quite as quickly as in the US but then the US doesn't have the maze of
small little roads that Italy has either.

You've probably figured out by now that we've left Spain and are in
Italy. After a couple of days visiting the ruins and churches of Rome we
headed south to visit, you guessed it, more ruins. This time it was the
quite remarkable ruins of Pompei. I was surprised by the that had been
excavated. Pompei easily outsized Ronan.

From Pompei we headed out onto the Sorrentine Peninsula. The blue waters
of the Gulf of Napoli to our right, the mountains of the peninsula to our
right and little villages scattered everywhere. Quite picturesque.

Our second day we went on a day ride from Sorrento to the tip of the
peninsula. The ride started by climbing 1200' to the spine of the
peninsula. We rode through olive, lemon and orange groves and at the tope
had an amazing view off the end of the peninsula towards the isle of Capri.
Lots of budding and flowering as spring is underway here. After the climb
we had a long downhill to a coastal, well still several hundred feet up
but closer to the coast, road. Nice views of the water, Capri and Ischia
with Naples and Vesuvious off in the distance. Easy day - only 30km and
we were back in a cafe in a sunny square in Sorrento by 1:30.

The next day we strapped our luggage back on the bikes and headed up and
over the peninsula to the Amalfi coast. This side of the peninsula was
even more dramatic than the Sorrento side. Picture the Going to the Sun
road merged with the Big Sur coast road and you're getting close. Most of
the time we rode along a road that was more of a bridge leaning against
the mountain side. On the left was an almost vertical cliff on the right
was a shear drop to the gulf. Sometimes the road was even cantilevered
out over the gulf.

We finished our southern Italy experience by visiting yet more ruins.
This time the temples of Paestum, easily the best preserved Greek temples
I've seen. We also had Neapolitan pizza at World Champion's pizzeria in
Salerno.

Since we've traveled north to Tuscany where we met Stacey's Mom and
Sister and spent a week visiting the hill towns around Siena and staying
in a lovely agriturismo named Spannocchia. From there we biked north to
Pisa and one of Erich's must sees. The next day we roe to Firenze
(Florence) and we can all verify that it is a long way, 104km. To top it
off we hit rush hour traffic going into town. We easily made better time
than the cars but it was harrowing. A day of museums, churches and Gelato
in Florence and it was back in the saddle. After four days of bicycling
up the Arno river to the Canal Maestro della Chiana over some low hills
to Lago Trasimeno and a stiff final climb we arrived here in Perugia.

The Eventful Pope Sighting

Happy Easter everybody!

This morning while I was reading we heard what sounded like a marching
band. So Mom and I went out in the rain to investigate. We headed towards
St. Peter's Basilica chasing the band. Upon arrival we found the square
full of huge lines and seas of umbrellas,speakers and TV screens for
people to see better. The band was a troop of Swiss Guards and Army Guys
carrying sub-machine guns. Once we went through security screening
andwere in the piazza in front of the church we waited for maybe 30
minutes before the Pope showed up to say Easter mass. He looked great in
his big tall hat that is twice the size of his head and his huge
spectacles! There were masses of people and a choir that sang
beautifully. But it kept raining. By the time we decided to leave we were
soaked. But it was a great experience!

Until next time folks! This is Erich reporting live from the Rome
apartment.

Ferry To Italy

So believe it or not, my mom just, all of a sudden, decides we are taking
a 20 hour ferry to Italy. Barcelona-Civitavechia was the route.

We have to be in the terminal at 7pm. But then we are told the ferry will
get in at 10 due to bad weather. So we walk along the port and find a
German Hot Dog restaurant. Then we walk back to the terminal in a cold
and sharp wind and light rain. After a grueling 1 1/2 hour wait, at 11
oclock we were instructed to take our bikes to the car waiting area, but
then a docksman told us to put our bikes on a bus that takes the other
passengers the short way to the waiting ferry. We board the boat via the
truck ramp, while they are still unloading huge trucks, which was loud
and crazy. We stored our bikes in a little room down in the car area.
Then we haul our bags up into our cabin where we dump the stuff and go
off to explore.

The boat even had a sun deck! But what for? It was so windy and cold we
could barely stay out side long enough to get that far! Enough of the
cold so we go in to check out the disco/bar. When we get back to the room
we each take a pill of Dramamine. I fell asleep to the huge crashing and
rocking up and down of the boat with each wave we hit.

When we woke up in the morning at 11 we had a half a bowl of cereal. Then
I went out to prowl the ship some more. But I had trouble walking because
of the bouncing. The ferry would go maybe 10-15 ft up and down and when
we smashed into a big wave the whole boat shuddered.

The ship was gigantic! It took 2 minutes to walk to the main lounge from
our room(which is only half of the whole boat).

At one point I was walking past the duty free store and the keeper shouts
at me that there were more people on the boat that spoke English. So I
asked if she knew where and she points to two guys looking at magazines
across the shop. So the four of us talked for a while before heading to
bed at about 6 pm because we have to be out of the cabin at 1 in the
morning.

Some lady comes and opens our door to get us up at 11:30. So we go and
sit in the main lobby to wait to get off the boat.

At 3 we are in the terminal trying to find a guard. We were found by the
English guys. We ask the guard of we could sleep in there. He said yes
so we set up and I give Grayson(the non crazy English speaker) my pad.
An hour later the guard comes to tell us that we have to go because he
was going to lock us in so we pack up and dragged the gear over the the
train station and caught the 5 o'clock train.

When we pull in to the Rome station we walk over to the nearest cafe to
wait for the proper time to get the keys to the apartment. I retaught
Grayson how to play Cribbage. He caught on quickly. Some how the four of
us sat in the little cafe for four hours.

When it was time to go to the rental agency to ge the keys and the
location of the apartment we packed up and trudged off into the rain again.

After the 45 minute walk over here to the appartment we spread stuff out
to dry in the calm and peaceful apartment. Yeah, we are in Rome!

Another exciting Saga in the Adventures of Erich Trickel and his parents!

Until next time folks!

Erich Trickel
Reporting live from the Rome apartment!

Where Was Erich Now?

This one should be a gimme.

12 29 33.46E
41 53 26.167N

Cadiz

We went to Cadiz on our way back to Malaga after touring Portugal in the
motorhome. I was excited to see the city that I had red about so much.
Cadiz was just how I thought the city would be from the context of the
books I have read. The event that I read most of the books about was when
Sir Francis Drake came and leveled the city.
The city and harbor looked like I pictured it. There was smaller harbor
on the end of a point making another harbor that Sir Francis Drake
attacked with cannons. There was even the forts on either side of the
entry ways to the inlet. One was out on a man made point of rock and the
other is across the little inlet from the first fort on the first larger
peninsula. On the way back to the RV after I had seen every thing I
want, we hit a tapas bar and then a Hagden Daz. The only thing we missed
was the massive fortified cathedral, which we did not go into because of
the cost. Then we drove off the peninsula by way of the marshy area that
is the outlet of the Guadalquivir River to find our camping ground for
the night.

Days in Morocco (ending)

What I think of as Morocco totally changed during my days there. All of
us were sad when we left the nice Riad in Meknes. After we left the Riad
it was on to Fez. We heard that Fez has lots of people that beg or give
tourists bad deals. So, the first day, on the way to the hotel we were
very wary but there was no need because we had only two people try to get
us into shops and three taxi guys ask us if we want a ride in to town.
The next day (when we were going to venture into the medina or old town)
we hired a guide for three hours. First things first, we told him no shops,
we are not buying anything. After that the guide said, "I'm official, I
don't take to shops." So for 2 1/2 hours he shows us the sights that the
city Fez has to offer: the mosques, gates, the tanneries, rug makers,
blanket makers, wood craftsmen and metal smiths. Then after that time
period we found ourselves in a small square in the middle of the medina
with a question at hand. What do you want to see now? After we didn't
answer he led us off to some shops. "I'm official I don't take you to
shops." Once when we walked out of a shop he was at the food shop next
door. After he left us we went back to some stores and bought some things
because then we wouldn't have to pay the little guide bonus thing.
I learned that I really have an easy life watching tanners skin the hides
of sheep and goat and thrash them around in pits of bull urine for 12
hours straight. I guess this is when it occured to me that I have a
really good life.
The first day in Fez, when we went to the gates of the medina, I got
to watch a pair of metal smiths. All day they were cooped up in a 20x10
room with a fire for a forge and no ear or eye protection pounding at
metal to make hooks. On the tour with the guide he showed us a pair of
women knotting rugs knot by knot. Just after that we went up on a balcony
and watched the tanners.

After Fez we took a bus to Chefchouen , a small town on the side of a
mountain. It's medina had blue washed walls from waist down and white up
from on the top. We stayed at a cheerful little hostal just 150m away
from the main square. In Chefchouen we saw a man with a sledge hammer
breaking the concrete on the street to put in drainage pipes. My dad
said, "Where's the air power jack hammer?" On trains and buses alike we
saw people out hoeing their fields as big as around two acres and kids
watching sheep in the next field over. On the way from Chefchouen to
Tangier there were women on the side of the road selling their three
radishes or a basket or a chicken. They had on really fancy hats and reed
vests over their shirts.
Then we left Tangier, and the rest of Africa, behind and went back to
Spain on a ferry. Although I had thought maybe we'd have trouble in
Morocco, what I found was just regular nice people, friendly and wanting
to help us. My best memories are of the friendly people at the riad, the
nice people in the markets and shops who talked to us, and the kids who
let me play football with them.

The Days in Morrocco

Across the long Straights of Gibraltar, with the wind in our face, we went.

To Tangier we went for one night instead of streaking right through. Then
we travelled by a rickety old bus to a town called Asilah. We stayed
there for two nights. The town is right on the coast and we got to watch
the waves break on the rocks for half of an hour. After Asilah came
Rabat, the capital city and it is much more liberal. We got to see a huge
Roman trading post that is from 500BC. There were lots of people playing
on the beach and surfing off the coast of the city. Now we are staying in
Meknes, one of the Imperial Cities of Morocco. We found an extra day in
our schedule so we are staying here for another day. Next we go to
another huge tourist city called Fez. Then we go to Chefchouen, a town at
the foot of thre Rif mountains. Then we head back to Tangier to end the
visit to Morrocco.

While we were walking in Rabat we saw a kid sleeping on the corner at
3:00 with people walking 1ft away. Almost when and where ever you sit
down the are kids walking around selling gum or tissues for their food.
Some kids even run market stalls.

Our hotel in Meknes is called a Riad,or garden hotel. The sitting room
has a really arabic feeling. There are rooftop terracesand lots of
Moroccan crafts and art. I like the low round pillows to sit on. The
people are good managers because they try to entertain the guests instead
of some places they say here is you key, bye.

Some people are really nice and don't want tips for rederecting or
letting you look at things in their shop. But others want up to a half
dollar or make you buy what you touch. Were been able to talk and laugh
with people that don't speak very good English. And of couse we don't
speak Moroccan. So it is fun to try to communicate.
My favorite food so far is Thé de Menthe(mint tea with mint leaves and
green tea)and flat bread(which is a version of a pancake). But we've had
some really good sweets from the market. I really liked the Hiara soup
that we had in our hotel.
There is lots of stuff positive about this country including the market
stalls and the tourist trinket shops. We've been seeing alot of ruins of
palaces and the picture attached is of my dad and I in front of a roman
ruin and a ruined mosque of Chellah in Rabat.

Where Was Erich Now?

Where was Erich now?

He was at:
36 8 2.9N
5 20 45.4W

For those of you who didn't figure out the last Where was Erich now (WWEN)
(See Monday, January 7, 2008 Blog posting at
http://www.whereiserichnow.blogspot.com ) Erich was at the Alcazar in
Sevilla.

The Alhambra

I ascend the last steps to the top of the Broken Tower, the tallest tower
in the Alhambra, and look left to the immense cluster of mountains called
the Sierra Nevada powdered with white and with an accompanying foreground
of brown. I really enjoyed the sights off of the top. One could see all
of the town streching out below, with white houses and tall church
towers. I would have made a really, really, tall tower in the middle for
a better view but the Broken Tower with the famous bell was still pretty
tall. The mountains looked intriguing.

I couldn't find the tower in which the maidens of the Alhambra lived in
Tales of the Alhambra by Washington Irving. But the fortress still holds
up to the comments other wise. One other thing that I really liked is
towers. The towers followed almost the exact pattern one would think of
as a medeival castle. Also the towers were spaced excellently and were
just the right hight when looked at from a distance. My favorite was the
Broken Tower because it was the tallest and was at the point of the
castle since the fortresses shape is like boat. Broken Tower gave a
tremendous view of the surrounding area. Mom says the Alhambra is famous
for its gardens, terraces, Almodahar architecture, and all its fountains.
It was a lttile hard to take it all in. She is writing about that. For
me, I liked the tower and the views best.

Mosque Cathedral of Cordoba

For the last two weeks we have been traveling with my visiting aunt
Michele and seeing some of the main sites of Andalucia. My aunt flew into
Sevilla where we stayed for 4 days then we took a train to Cordoba.
Cordoba is a little more to the North and East. For three days we saw the
sites of this city. After Cordoba came Granada. I think we should have
stayed one less night in Cordoba and one more in Granada. In Granada we
saw the mighty Alhambra(see separate posting) and the Cathedral there.
Then we moved on to Malaga and to the coast for the first time in five
weeks. Here we saw the Picasso museum (see separate posting.

In Cordoba we saw interesting sights including a Roman bridge and we went
to a famous tortilla espanola restaurant where I met the owner. The most
famous sight in Cordoba is the Mezquita, a mosque and cathedral started
in the 7th century. The size of this mosque is amazing, and also the
quality is remarkable. If you wanted to walk the perimeter the walk would
be five minutes at a moderate pace. This amazing Muslim site of prayer
was built in ten months.

The most immpressive part was the 50 red and white columns each 10 ft
away from each other and 15 ft tall. All of the 15 ft pillars were reused
as to consume less time. Some are Visigothic but mostly the columns were
Roman.

The orange garden was splendid and remined me of the gardens in the
Alcazar in Sevilla. There were also cyprus trees and one olive tree to
symbolise the mosque. Originally the gardens were just olive trees but
the Christians replanted it.

When Cordoba was taken by the Christians, a hole for the Catedral was
taken out of the Mosque and the city church was errected in the middle of
the Muslim pillars. This is one the biggest, and prettiest mosques in
Spain.

There are TWO OTHER POSTINGS with pictures on my blog.

www.whereiserichnow.blogspot.com

Picasso Museum

The world would be a different place without those that are mentally ill
in our society. Those few challenge the minds of others in the society.
From inventions to art, the world has been changed by them. When I was in
the Piccaso Museum I had the idea that maybe Piccaso was a little off the
deep end. His art really challenged my thinking.

This museum is in Malaga, which is where Piccaso was born. The museum
had 12 rooms of paintings organised according to time. The museum
presented his early works where his paintings were fairly normal to later
works where the lines get blobbish and irregular to his ending ones which
are getting a little more regular. There were a few tidbits of painted on
pottery.

My favorite was titled Man. It was the oddest and most colorful of
the paintings we had seen. It had many different color pallets. Also it
was in the second to last room. It was a sombrero on a sphere with a
bunch of out of the ordinary lines that distantly resembled a body.

In my opinion his paintings were a little overload on the weird side.
As I said in the begining, I think that Piccaso might have been a little
off the deep end. One of his painting that was one of the weirder ones
looked like a pair of boots laying on the beach on top of a tan ball that
has two white circles paited on it. His painting were really weird and in
that case chllenged my mind, and plenty of other peoples' minds, too.

While in Malaga we also took a tour to some dolmens, a natural park, and
a town calld Ronda which was up in the mountains. Attached is a picture
of Aunt Michele and I at a restaurant ovelooking the gorge in Ronda and
the "new bridge" which as built in the 1800's.

Holidays in Sevilla

I have spent the holidays in an apartment in Sevilla. Christmas was
great
with all of the Belens and carolers. New Years was a blast with the grapes
and yesterday was Three Kings Day and the cake and parade. Holidays here
are much different than they are at home.

The main thing here that the Sevillans do for Christmas is set up
huge numbers of Belens, or nativity scenes. Belen is Bethlehem in
Spanish. The province that we are in is famous for it's Bethlehem scenes
which are set up all over the town. When we went around looking at
Bethlehems there would sometimes be carolers standing around singing in
Spanish. Usually kids don't get presents on this day.

New Years was great! There is a tradition where as the bells ring in
the New Year, you eat 12 grapes (one with each clang of the bell) that
represent the months of the year. I wonder how no one has choked on the
grapes yet. We had been seeing little packages of white grapes in the
store and people were showing up the the Plaza Nueva with these packs of
grapes - there were hoardes of people from many countries. People drink
Spanish fizzy wine and throw 6ft ribbons that zing all over and get
tangled up. The crowd was so loud that we couldn't hear the bells for
when to eat the grapes. There were fireworks and everyone was yelling.
After we got back Mom and I stayed up watching Dr. Zhivago until 1:30 am.
I think it was the first real New Years Party I have ever been to.

On Three Kings Day there was a huge parade and when I could see the
whole road all of it was people. There were floats and marching bands and
everyone in Seville must have been there. The floats in the parade barely
fit by the people and it
was like a shock wave how it completely closed around the float and then
open back up around the next people that came. The candy was totally
different because it was all hard stuff and no gum or smarties or any
thing but hard
stuff that you can buy for three cents at the store and you had to bash
and
smash you way to get anything. CARAMELO CARAMELO PORFAVOR CARAMELO means
candy candy please candy so every person watching was shouting. The
floats had all of
the differrent styles. One was even Harry Potter. I didn't think they had
that book over here or at least it wouldn't be as famous. There is also a
special cake that is meant to be eaten on the holiday and it has a little
tiny pottery painted king inside the cake and who ever gets the king get
good luck for the rest of the year. I got the king in my piece!!

Over all the holidays have many differences between the U.S. and
Spain, and there are some similarities like what days they celebrate. The
people over here celebrate the holidays differently also. On New Years
there are grapes that resemble months that you
eat one per dong of the clock. Christmas isn't as much for Santa as is
for Christmas. And Three King's Day is a really big holiday here.