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...