Wednesday 31 October 2007
yes I know I had to put the posts in backwards, but I thought it'd make more sense
Lots more photos on flicker (click on top left image of Tom foraging in Devon)
So where are we and why are we here?
Rather unexpectedly for late October 2007 we find ourselves not telling tales of northern Greece, Italy and Slovenia, but instead of village life in Bulgaria, and in particular our new little house. Within hours of arriving here in early August, we had already decided that Bulgaria definitely had the potential to be our favourite country of the trip. On a bit a whim and casual suggestion from Gemma, we decided to try a bit of WOOFing, save a bit of cash and hopefully meet some nice, interesting people. We picked a farm run by an english speaking lady (not wanting to make it too complicated for our first WOOF experience) and a quick call later and we were booked in for a week. Upon arrival, we happily got settled into our volunteers tasks and communal living and in no time at all it began to feel like home. The eco-friendly lifestyle and organic farming methods, both being principals we ourselves aspire to, an interest naturally developed in how Kathy, our host, came to live here (and maybe how we could too!). Realistically we both know that to ever have either the capital or luck to buy anything approaching this, in Ireland or England, is well beyond our reach. Renting, with perhaps a small outside space is the best we can hope for. Bulgaria however is a very different situation. Needless to say, following such revelations, many nights ensued of mulling over the pros and cons and discussing practically if and how it could ever work. Eventually we decided to go and look at a few houses we knew were for sale, just to see what your money can buy – of course we didn’t have any money and had no intention of buying at this time, but surely it can’t hurt to look… Of course as you’ve already guessed, we saw a house we loved and to cut a long rambling story short, we are now both highly indebted – both with thanks and finance – to our lovely respective sisters – and find ourselves the proud new owners of that said house.
How old d’you have to be before a bungalow is acceptable?
So this is our house, taken a few weeks before we bought it. Looks a bit imposing from this photo as we’re on a bit of a hill and so the foundations at the front are actually head-height and the cellar entrance is only just below ground level. Still a bungalow though, as are most houses here, partly because during the snowy winter months any upstairs rooms would be too cold to live in, and also the big earthquake in 1986 brought most of them down anyway. Since then a few 2-storey houses have been built in the village, but they nearly all have the staircases on the outside. Our house is in fact quite unusual in that you can access all the rooms in the house without going outside.
With every good house there comes a cowshed
As well the 4 main rooms in the house we also have a variety of outbuildings, for our currently fictitious farm yard friends. Presently we have few concrete plans for these spaces; one has become a tool room (though rather devoid of equipment at the moment owing to us being caught somewhat off guard in terms of restoration preparation); another is slowly gaining a reputation as a good place for “bits and pieces that might be useful in the future” to hang out; the big barn is full of old corn storks which are proving to be worth their weight in gold with regard to fire lighting potential; and one of the chicken houses is doing a marvellous job of pretending to be a garden shed, now that we’ve sawed a human size entrance in the side. The pig sty remains empty, but definitely has goat home written all over it. Pigs are a very popular animal to keep here, all our neighbours have a least one out the back, however as our ongoing quest to find any kind of meat that is NOT PORK for sale in this country, I currently feel a pig would be somewhat of a waste – unless of course we learnt how to butcher and could make rashers, another thing sorely missed on the supermarket shelves.
Welcome to the jungle
As the house has not really been lived in for at least 5 years, the garden and land is unsurprisingly in need of a little re-taming. This autumn our main aim is just to clear what we can so we can actually see what’s there, get the lie of the land so to speak. There is a small, rather neglected vineyard which needs some attention – although quite what, is a subject we must learn. To the side of this are 3 well established fruit trees (apple, plum and pear) and we have just planted 7 more saplings; cherry, 2 peach, nectarine, apricot and 2 apple, hopefully creating a sort of orchard area as they grow and mature. Behind this and running the whole length of the property is a wide semi-wooded gully. We expect this serves as a run-off for the spring snow melt and so there is little point trying to cultivate much here, at least until we are clearer as to the nature of the ground throughout the whole of the year. What might be both nice and feasible though is to encourage more tree coverage, in particular walnuts as they grow in abundance in Bulgaria, and just keep it as a wooded glen. Up behind the house is a good size meadowy field. It will take a good deal to prepare this land for growing veggies, and so at present it is not really on our priority list. The only work we’ve undertaken round here, and sometimes I’m sure Tom feels like it has become an all consuming task, is to cut down and dig out the 2 trees growing right up against the house. After lifting the rugs in the kitchen and finding roots growing along the floor(!) preventing further damage and damp from entering the house seemed a good place to start. One month on and one tree is totally out, for the other it’s days are numbered, only the recent spell of wet weather has delayed it’s extraction.
Muscle Max
Much of the front garden was shoulder height weeds, living a rather care-free existence until our friend Max arrived. Wielding a freshly sharpened corsa (very similar to a scythe) he reduced the whole area down to ground level and made mincemeat of the very solid concrete fence, diagonally dissecting the garden. Now as you can see, we can actually see what we have and my head is full of plans and ideas of how we might use this space in the future. Thank you Max very much.
The heart of the home
The kitchen is supposed to be the heart of the home, and one day ours will be. At the moment unfortunately we cook outside of one door, have a sink area outside of another, and prepare food in the hallway somewhere in between. It can feel like we spend our days walking in circles, trying to be in 3 places at once, but hopefully not for too much longer. The need to gut our current kitchen exposed itself on the day we moved in and discovered an ant nest in and under the walls. We think they came in on the tree roots and had made a home in part of a rotting beam supporting one of the walls. With wood out, brick supports in and several trench excavations, we think we’ve got rid of them… but then we thought we’d got rid of them a few weeks ago too, so never say never. We also discovered a network of rat tunnels under the rugs and a few old nests complete with mummified past residents. The large sink unit was originally going to stay, but closer inspection revealed it was really rotten inside due to a bit of a bodge plumbing job and so we plan in time to reuse the sink in the outside kitchen. For now we are left with a shell. The mud floor needs digging out a good few inches down to a solid flat level, we then plan to lay a few inches of concrete (I can’t wait for that job) and then bricks, tarted up to give a cobble-stoney effect or something, see what turns out. It would be great to get this done before we leave this time, but we’ll see.
Sometimes you have to create chaos to achieve calm
We frequently wonder if a Bulgarian couple had bought this house, whether they would have made nearly so much work for themselves. Our neighbours think we’re bonkers catching dormice and driving them a couple of miles down the road before releasing them (well perhaps we are a little). No-one can understand all the effort we’ve gone to to exterminate the ants – funny how there seems to be different rules about what creatures are acceptable to kill, perhaps if the ants had cute fury faces we’d feel different, either way, neither is particularly welcome. We have taken up 6 pieces of what would probably be deemed perfectly suitable linoleum in the living room and are intending to lay wooden floor boards – and to complicate matters further we want to put in some kind of damp course – totally unnecessary according to any Bulgarian we’ve asked – in fact we might even have to lie about why we want the polythene so that they will sell it to us! Anyway, here is a picture of our hallway the day we moved in, and also one of it now. While certainly the house looks more lived in, I am looking forward to eventually returning to some kind of happy, tidy medium.
If it ain't on the list it's not a priority
After a little too long of us both referring to an imaginary priority list, i.e things we need to do to get the house safe and sound before winter, we decided to sit down and actually write one. Of course it’s a working document and some days it feels more is added than accomplished, but we’re getting there. The majority of the exterior jobs (not including gardening) are done or at least started. First job was to build a compost heap, so we had somewhere to empty our bucket –embracing the concept of human manure (and the pit toilet is full, enough said). Tom was an apprentice for a day replacing the broken tiles on the roof. We’ve put up guttering around the back where the trees and damp had been coming in. Most of the windows have been scraped and a form of putty put in – being made from sunflower oil it has a very different texture to what we’d be used to, more like play dough, but the biggest problem with it is that the birds love it, and we are on constant watch for their destructive attacks.
Am I working him too hard?
Inside the house we now have light in the dark room, thanks again to Max and a very long drill bit. Unfortunately rats and mice are still able to get into this room, so we’re currently operating a keep the door shut policy and we’ll deal with it when we have time. Eventually this long wide cupboard will be our bathroom, but that is a good few years off, this autumn we only hope to seal floor, walls and ceiling and take some measurements so we can start to plan. Two rooms and the hallway are quite habitable, so one is very full of all the furniture from the kitchen, living room and a bedroom, the other is where we eat, sleep and sit by the fire in the evenings. Not a whole lot different to living in the van! We’ve found two great second hand shops in Popovo, and I think we’re probably their best customers, now all on first name terms we are greeted warmly every time we drop in, because more than likely we’ll see something we need or want – slightly different things, good job the money goes a great deal further
Not quite Picasso
As the weather is turning cooler so our focus is turning more to the kitchen and living room. The later now plastered and had its first coat of whitewash today, definitely not quite mastered the professional finish, but it will be a talking point in the years to come, I think the style is called rustic, but it’ll hopefully look passable with low level lighting. The kitchen is still just a store for sand, cement, plaster and a whole host of other materials I knew nothing about 6 weeks ago.
We also built a small fence today from the trees we’ve cut down from the vegetable-garden-to-be. They’re not much good as fire wood as they’ve huge thorns, but perfect fence material - except while you’re making the fence, ouch
Sunday 9 September 2007
err.... surprise!
Just to let you know we are still alive! We've actually stopped our travelling at the moment, rather unexpectedly. In short we arrived in a village in northern Bulgaria just over a month ago to do a week's volunteering on an organic small holding, one week became two, and before we knew it we decided to try to buy a house here - very abridged version. Essentially though, we're hoping, all being well, to be the proud owners of a nice little bungalow sometime next week. It needs a little work, but we plan to stay here till early November, so if anyone fancies a visit.....? you'd be most welcome (particularly if you have any plumbing, building or electrical skills). Will be able to give more details once all is final. Still planning move to Dublin this side of Christmas and getting proper jobs again, longer term beyond that it's all a bit grey, we'll see what pans out. exciting times though. Hope everyone's well, looking forward to seeing you again soon.
Thursday 2 August 2007
Ride on, Willie
While driving from the Danube Delta down towards Constanta, we were hailed by the Police. “Here we go” I thought and got myself ready for some fine for some rule just made up. Perhaps I was a little hasty in my judgement. It transpired that the police were attempting to help a German cyclist who was no longer able to cycle his bike. As I greeted the police with a Buna Zeau they assumed I was a local, so I then had to communicate that I could not understand him!!…thought the steering wheel would have given it away.
The cyclist had a trailer with his bike and was doing a world tour, he was also due to do a tv interview in Constanta the next day as he was famous for his cycles. I then remembered about Heinz Stucke, but could not recall his name at the time. This cyclist called himself Willie. I kept asking him if he had had his bike stolen in UK, but he misunderstood my English. After measuring the van, he said his bike and trailer would not fit. By then the police had hailed a bigger van, so we are optimistic that Willie made it to the next town.
Finally we made it to our campsite between Constanta and the border. It is a resort campsite…..with the pleasure of squat toilets whose doors don’t lock!! Nice. Still we are making the most of wifi and communicating and researching the next bit of our trip. We are hopeful of spending one week in a small village in Bulgaria helping out on an organic farm/campsite and getting to meet some local village folk.
To all who would like to visit Romania, I advise you to do so before it is homogenised into the EU empire. The cottage food industry is still alive here, but it wont be for long. The traditional peasant life continues in the north of the country, but who knows for how long if it no longer is necessary. As the roads get better, more people from the west will surely come here in greater numbers and so the prices will rise and rise…
On Thursday we cross the border and say hello to Bulgaria and attempt to get to grips with its fine language and alphabet.
The cyclist had a trailer with his bike and was doing a world tour, he was also due to do a tv interview in Constanta the next day as he was famous for his cycles. I then remembered about Heinz Stucke, but could not recall his name at the time. This cyclist called himself Willie. I kept asking him if he had had his bike stolen in UK, but he misunderstood my English. After measuring the van, he said his bike and trailer would not fit. By then the police had hailed a bigger van, so we are optimistic that Willie made it to the next town.
Finally we made it to our campsite between Constanta and the border. It is a resort campsite…..with the pleasure of squat toilets whose doors don’t lock!! Nice. Still we are making the most of wifi and communicating and researching the next bit of our trip. We are hopeful of spending one week in a small village in Bulgaria helping out on an organic farm/campsite and getting to meet some local village folk.
To all who would like to visit Romania, I advise you to do so before it is homogenised into the EU empire. The cottage food industry is still alive here, but it wont be for long. The traditional peasant life continues in the north of the country, but who knows for how long if it no longer is necessary. As the roads get better, more people from the west will surely come here in greater numbers and so the prices will rise and rise…
On Thursday we cross the border and say hello to Bulgaria and attempt to get to grips with its fine language and alphabet.
To swelter in the Delta
Our trip to Romania could not be complete without visiting the Danube Delta. It was a fair distance out of the way, but well worth it. After a very long hot drive, where we left the slightly cooler mountains and crossed the scorching plains, we eventually arrived in the arid delta region. So much of the land looked parched beyond belief. Crops were totally wilted and grass was quickly turning to dust. It seems the devastation we’ve read about occurring in England due to the floods, is equally matched over here due to draught. On arrival in the village of Murghiol we were approached by Serghei Condrat, a local man who offered accommodation and boat trips. As we were in search of both, we struck a deal (in my school girl French) and were soon parked up in his farm yard. Serghei and his wife have a small plot of land where he’s built a house from local resources and traditional methods. There were lots of examples of items being reused, and lots of things stored, awaiting a new purpose. They had dozens of chickens, a pig, cats, dogs, vegetable plot and small vineyard. The kitchen was outside, there was no running water and all the heat came from an enormous wood burning stove.
When he first said “donc demain, cinq heure et demi?” (excuse poor spelling) I thought ha ha very funny, then I realised he wasn’t joking. So at 5am our alarm clock sounded, not that we would have needed one as the cockerel was equally punctual and we would have been awake from then on, boat trip or no boat trip. By 6am we were on the water. The sun was just about to rise and not another sole was in sight. The next 5 hours were spent cruising the river, canals and lakes of a very small part of the great Danube Delta. In no particular order we saw, pelicans, cormorants, glossy ibis, egrits and little egrits, a bittern, various unidentified terns, gulls and waders. A few lapwings, lots of white storks, herons – purple, grey, squacco and night – and some ducks, coots and mute swans. Down a narrow tributary we chased several kingfishers for almost half an hour. We also saw a small mammal which looked a bit like a beaver, our guide could only tell us what it was called in Romanian, but said they make nice hats and ladies coats from its fur, nice! In parts of the delta we had to punt along as the plants growing on the bottom just got caught in the motor every few meters. Serghei said that normally the water level is between 3-4m at present it is only 50cm. This is having a big effect on the whole ecosystem. The most obvious example was the giant shell fish that normally live on the bottom. The water temperature has increased substantially due to the level being so low, and so many of these creatures are dying, the surface being littered with floating shells. As we came back to shore most boats seemed to be just leaving for the day, packed with tourists, but we were very glad to be missing the heat of the day.
When he first said “donc demain, cinq heure et demi?” (excuse poor spelling) I thought ha ha very funny, then I realised he wasn’t joking. So at 5am our alarm clock sounded, not that we would have needed one as the cockerel was equally punctual and we would have been awake from then on, boat trip or no boat trip. By 6am we were on the water. The sun was just about to rise and not another sole was in sight. The next 5 hours were spent cruising the river, canals and lakes of a very small part of the great Danube Delta. In no particular order we saw, pelicans, cormorants, glossy ibis, egrits and little egrits, a bittern, various unidentified terns, gulls and waders. A few lapwings, lots of white storks, herons – purple, grey, squacco and night – and some ducks, coots and mute swans. Down a narrow tributary we chased several kingfishers for almost half an hour. We also saw a small mammal which looked a bit like a beaver, our guide could only tell us what it was called in Romanian, but said they make nice hats and ladies coats from its fur, nice! In parts of the delta we had to punt along as the plants growing on the bottom just got caught in the motor every few meters. Serghei said that normally the water level is between 3-4m at present it is only 50cm. This is having a big effect on the whole ecosystem. The most obvious example was the giant shell fish that normally live on the bottom. The water temperature has increased substantially due to the level being so low, and so many of these creatures are dying, the surface being littered with floating shells. As we came back to shore most boats seemed to be just leaving for the day, packed with tourists, but we were very glad to be missing the heat of the day.
Wednesday 1 August 2007
De Wilderness and de Bears
After reading about the Transfagarasan mountain pass being only opened in the summer months, we decided Napoleon was up for the challenge. Great road to drive, never got into fourth gear at all, mainly second and third with full lock on some of the hairpin bends. We had planned to park at the cable car car-park (park n’ ride essentially) and take the easy way up to 2100m. It was thronged with lots of people and cars who had made the effort to get up early, unlike us. So we battled on up the hills, my forearms shifting up and down the gears like mad. Then after 1km we saw a space where we decided to park up and maybe camp for FREE. The Budget Master was very happy with this idea. So with map, food and a trail in mind, we lazily meandered back to the cable car and flew up to. At the top there was a small glacial lake, with lots of folk having bbqs and picnics, admiring the vistas of the highest ridges in the Carpathian mountains. We ate our hang sandwiches and made for the ridge. We picked a walk that was arduous at the start but which descended the last two thirds of the route. After ten minutes we lost the trail, slightly ominous, but found it again by that great invention of stealth and espionage – binoculars. We continued to make our way up to the heady heights of 2400m with magnificent views all around. Then we again lost the trail on our descent, so perhaps slightly foolishly we split up, one with the camera, the other with the binoculars in search of the elusive trail mark. After 3 minutes I began to imagine the wolves, lynx, brown bear nibbling at one of us. So I scuttled back over the ridge and found Laura. Then next minute I saw the trail mark several hundred metres away from where we were. I had to take a photo to make sure. Alas eventually this trail lead to nowhere helpful. It became clear that the trail was no longer in use as we came across 2m high pine trees densely packed together!! So began the exercise and possible new sport of tree walking!! Essentially we were walking roughly 10m per min max, and that was with full throttle on the adrenaline tanks. I still had half a mind on the local carnivores and the setting sun. Looking at the map only served to increase our anxiety about getting back in one piece. Finally we made it into a larger forest with no tree walking required. I hurriedly found a stick to fight the Bears with! and so began the task of persuading our exhausted muscles to run and dash through the forest. We made up our own trail at this stage, which ended with a view of the road from 20 m above, so I scouted the ridge, lost the torch, found the torch and then found a safe route down!! We kept imagining wolves watching us from the forest edges, a trick of the imagination that never transpired into reality.We stayed at our spot with the company of others, for some nights, and on the last night we saw a Brown Bear! He was scavenging from the bin in front of our van. As it was about 4am we were unable to make out much definition, but it was an exciting 15 minutes. It was difficult to resist the temptation of turning on the van’s headlights or taking a photo as that would have scared him off, but also offered a better view of what he looked like. But we didn’t.
We continued our journey over the mountain pass and into Wallachia – S.Romania and then back towards Brasov.
Sorin the Magnificent
Ahhh Sorin, our genial host and owner of Mioritica gave us a fine welcome to his cavernous home. Sorin, a history teacher leads a double life as a tour guide during the summer holidays. He gives tours of the local saxon lands, but also conducts tours abroad? A big man who at times seemed to be suffering from the effects of marijuana smoking, was able to give us a low down on the new Romania. It made the stay a lot more colourful. Sorin managed to acquire his land for almost nothing and has composed a very aesthetically pleasing complex of huts and wooden buildings which he rents out. Traditional Romanian food is also available. Scattered around the garden and sheds are vestiges of romania’s distant and more recent past. There is even a nostalgic room devoted to Nicolaui Ceaucescu. Met some Austrian lads doing a mad whistle stop tour of Romania, Bulgaria, and the Balkan countries in 3 weeks. Made us feel like we were going at snails pace.Although this was one of the big expenses of our Romanian trip, we got a better sense of how the locals lived. There is still a real community spirit of giving lifts to those walking on the road, buying or borrowing some eggs off the neighbours and giving Tuica brandy to the neighbours in return.
We have managed to spot Bee Eaters…very colourful with bat like wings and long beaks. They nest in burrows in the hills. Very acrobatic to watch. We also finally got to see a bird of prey up close, but not close enough to firmly identify it. I think it was a Buzzard, but Laura thinks it was a Black Kite. Say no more, other than we wont be on the Ornithologists shortlist for best bird watcher!
The Eyes can see you
One of the big attractions in Transylvania is Sibiu. Recently appointed as EU capital of culture, the square and many of the streets have a certain western European gleam to them. An old Saxon town, it is very walkable, with plenty of cobbled stones and 3 main squares. It is also a student town, but when we visited in July they were on their summer holidays, so the vibe wasn’t studenty per se. We happily meandered for several hours in the heat until our feet began to melt into our shoes! The houses are adorned with tiled roofs, which also have eyelet shapes in them, which give the sense of being watched. Managed to pick up some maps of the Fagaras Mountains and Bucegi Mountains with hiking trails marked. Which meant we could at last go safely into the mountains. Or so we thought.
Hunadora
Our plan was to visit the earliest settled part of Romania and see some of the Neolithic remains in the vicinity of Hunadora and Hateg. Unfortunately we didn’t really know any more than this, the area was not mentioned at all in our guide book and tourist information offices are rather scares in all but the most major towns. We found Hunadora easily enough, but with little idea of what we were actually looking for within the town our aimless wander brought us to a grand Hapsburg empire dating castle. While not quite what we had intended, it was an interesting site (and not a ruin which made a refreshing change from other castles of similar age). Not too many tour groups but plenty of information signs in English gave a happy balance. The castle had its share of legends – bear pits where they would toss enemy captives – a well dug by 3 Turkish slaves promised freedom if completed. 28 years later they hit ground water, but by then the king had died and his word was not honoured, so they were killed anyway, maybe even fed to the bears, very sad story.
A more careful study of the map suggested that there might be ‘ancient sites’ amongst the villages to the east of the town, so we set off again in pursuit. On the map, red roads are usually main roads – either newly surfaced and fantastic, awaiting resurfacing and fairly bumpy having been patched and re-patched, or currently undergoing resurfacing and to be avoided if at all possible. Half the road is usually closed and both sets of traffic lights on green, but then its not like anyone actually adheres to the traffic light system over here anyway, so general chaos prevails. Anyway, red, orange and yellow roads are generally tarmac. White roads however on the whole tend to be gravel, often with more potholes than actual road surface testing Napoleons suspension to the limit. As the only way to reach these villages was along said white roads progress was slow. The temperature gauge on the van having broken we had one eye always on the warning light, Napoleon is not a massive fan of long-term 2nd gear. Finally we reached a village, but having taken several wrong turns (there are also no signposts on these white roads) and as the village was not on the map (an all to common occurrence) we pulled over to assess the situation. Continue along the gravel track, up the very steep hill that stood before us in the hope that we are still heading in the right direction, or turn around and take a very long route back to camp. As we sat and pondered over cheese sandwiches, appreciating the peace and tranquillity of the place, a distant bell grew ever closer, and after a while, over the ridge appeared 3 lumbering cows, closely pursued by their lady owner. As the cows grazed in the ditch she took a seat on a near by log all the time chatting away to her small heard and occasionally waving her stick at them. Being the only person we had seen for some time, we decided she was our best bet for trying to determine our location and route. As I approached I received the biggest smile I have possible ever witnessed, it almost looked painful to achieve. It was accompanied by a native American Indian style hand gesture, and for a long moment I wondered if she was expecting a high five. I showed her our map and attempted to pronounce where we wanted to go. Fortunately she understood immediately and confirmed we had to go up and over the hill, “drum, drum, drum”, drive, drive, drive we were instructed. So with sincere thanks we set off. After 10 minutes Napoleon inevitable over heated, but by that time we were over the worst and so just sat back and enjoyed the amazing views while we waited for him to cool down. The scenery was spectacular as the landscape was bathed in warm evening sun. By the time we made it down and into the villages near the ‘ancient sites’ it was fairly late and with still no signage to indicate where these might be, we finally decided to give up, perhaps some things are just not meant to be found.
A more careful study of the map suggested that there might be ‘ancient sites’ amongst the villages to the east of the town, so we set off again in pursuit. On the map, red roads are usually main roads – either newly surfaced and fantastic, awaiting resurfacing and fairly bumpy having been patched and re-patched, or currently undergoing resurfacing and to be avoided if at all possible. Half the road is usually closed and both sets of traffic lights on green, but then its not like anyone actually adheres to the traffic light system over here anyway, so general chaos prevails. Anyway, red, orange and yellow roads are generally tarmac. White roads however on the whole tend to be gravel, often with more potholes than actual road surface testing Napoleons suspension to the limit. As the only way to reach these villages was along said white roads progress was slow. The temperature gauge on the van having broken we had one eye always on the warning light, Napoleon is not a massive fan of long-term 2nd gear. Finally we reached a village, but having taken several wrong turns (there are also no signposts on these white roads) and as the village was not on the map (an all to common occurrence) we pulled over to assess the situation. Continue along the gravel track, up the very steep hill that stood before us in the hope that we are still heading in the right direction, or turn around and take a very long route back to camp. As we sat and pondered over cheese sandwiches, appreciating the peace and tranquillity of the place, a distant bell grew ever closer, and after a while, over the ridge appeared 3 lumbering cows, closely pursued by their lady owner. As the cows grazed in the ditch she took a seat on a near by log all the time chatting away to her small heard and occasionally waving her stick at them. Being the only person we had seen for some time, we decided she was our best bet for trying to determine our location and route. As I approached I received the biggest smile I have possible ever witnessed, it almost looked painful to achieve. It was accompanied by a native American Indian style hand gesture, and for a long moment I wondered if she was expecting a high five. I showed her our map and attempted to pronounce where we wanted to go. Fortunately she understood immediately and confirmed we had to go up and over the hill, “drum, drum, drum”, drive, drive, drive we were instructed. So with sincere thanks we set off. After 10 minutes Napoleon inevitable over heated, but by that time we were over the worst and so just sat back and enjoyed the amazing views while we waited for him to cool down. The scenery was spectacular as the landscape was bathed in warm evening sun. By the time we made it down and into the villages near the ‘ancient sites’ it was fairly late and with still no signage to indicate where these might be, we finally decided to give up, perhaps some things are just not meant to be found.
Maramures and Bucovina
Our first week in Romania saw us cover a great number of miles. For one reason or another we seemed to be travelling most days. Unlike previous countries we had visited, most of the places we wanted to see involved a drive and were fairly well spread out. We therefore spent large amounts of time in the van, putting Napoleon through his paces and Tom’s newly acquired driving skills to the test. The north of Romania seems to be considerably cooler than further south, so it was a welcome break from the high temperatures we had begun to acclimatise to. Our first stop was in the village of Sapanta, famous for its merry cemetery, just 4 km south of the Ukraine boarder. On paper it could be considered a bit tasteless, as rather than conventional headstones, the graves are marked by colourful wooden pictures, illustrating the deceased – sometimes in a rather comical pose and accompanied by a short humorous poem about their life. It felt more of a celebration of life and gave visitors a stronger sense of the people who had lived in the village.
The village itself was fascinating to walk through. Having recently visited a Hungarian ethnographic museum and wandered around the medieval homesteads (with a slight romantic yearning) we now found ourselves wandering round a much more authentic village, complete with the sounds and smells of simple country life. The roadsides were lined with chickens, geese and sheep. Cows came meandering down the road at dusk and horses and carts trundled past. Every house had a well stocked vegetable plot and hay stack or two. The older generation seemed to be dressed in a fairly traditional uniform and hat or head scarf, the younger people however were all kitted out in jeans and t-shirts. It is said that their lifestyle has barely changed in 500 years, but it will be interesting to see if it remains the same for much longer, I doubt it.
Photo is of painted Bucovina Monastery, painted top to toe both outside and in. Very popular pilgrimage for Greek Orthodox Christians.
“Tu Anglais Mafia Bandito”!
Well I have never been so insulted in all my life, there I was, just freshly arrived into Romania, and I get accosted and accused. We pulled in to drain some money from the ATM and I stayed in the van. I could see the father and son team of windscreen washers walking towards me with their tools ready. I was ready with my head shakes and firm ‘no’. That didn’t stop them though. Next minute the smaller lad had climbed up onto the bonnet and was scrubbing and brushing at old Napoleon’s screen. Then came the question of payment. Now I am not one to be scrimping with payment or gratuities, but I do not like to be bullied or forced into paying for something that I did not seek out. I was asked to hand over 10 english paper notes to quote. When I doubted this, the man typed it into his flash mobile phone. At this stage I was getting slightly indignant and ready for the escalation. Luckily all that happened was a lot of eye contact and me protesting that I had never requested such a fine job be done and hence no payment was obliged other than a thank you. We drove off with hands tapping on the van and shouts of Bandito. I really wanted to correct the man as to my nationality, but I felt this would be wasted on him. There does seem to pervade a sense that if you have a vehicle with a GB sticker on the rear, that you have money, and lots of it…..I wonder where this idea merges into a demand for £10 for a shoddy piece of windscreen washing and car climbing. ‘Bandito’, a case of pot kettle black me thinks.
When entering Romania you not only have to endure the sort of encounters as detailed above, but are legally obliged to buy a vignette or road tax/toll. This is not a lot by western European standards, i.e 5 Euros for 30 days. Hopefully the money will be spent on the roads. I feel for the suspension already, as the roads are shocking, and we are sticking to the main roads. They are incredibly straight, making overtaking much easier, but the surface is abysmal altogether. By the end of the day’s driving it feels like you have been on a journey across the sea; my poor old vestibular system doesn’t know what to expect at all with a bad case of sea legs resulting.
When entering Romania you not only have to endure the sort of encounters as detailed above, but are legally obliged to buy a vignette or road tax/toll. This is not a lot by western European standards, i.e 5 Euros for 30 days. Hopefully the money will be spent on the roads. I feel for the suspension already, as the roads are shocking, and we are sticking to the main roads. They are incredibly straight, making overtaking much easier, but the surface is abysmal altogether. By the end of the day’s driving it feels like you have been on a journey across the sea; my poor old vestibular system doesn’t know what to expect at all with a bad case of sea legs resulting.
Szeged
Our last stop in Hungary was to the delightfully untouristy university town of Szeged. We even had cloudy weather which was very welcome after the Turkish heat of Pecs. We stayed on a campsite on the banks of the great Tisza river. Initially we thought what a dump(!) place looked like it could do with a severe makeover. Then we crossed the river into town and noticed the flood levels marked on a wall. The highest level by far was reached in April 2006. It far superseded the great flood of 1879 which destroyed half of the city. Our campsite had obviously been totally submerged 15 months ago, only the very tops of the roofs would have been visible above the water, no wonder it looked so bedraggled.
Our guide book recommended the Serbian Orthodox Church, but it took a little finding, a plain building, tucked away behind the main Catholic Cathedral. A very old man with a very impressive beard greeted us and, having taken our 40p, hurried inside to switch on the lights and music. Suddenly we went from a dim silence, to find we were surrounded by reds and golds, giant chandeliers and a chorus of what we can only assume is Serbian Orthodox Church music. The whole front of the church was decorated with a beautiful gold tree with saints hanging from it. As the only visitors it seemed a shame there were not more people to appreciate this place, but then I guess the experience would have been very different had the church been full of other flash happy visitors.
Back at the ranch our pitch included admission to the outdoor thermal baths, still not very eggy but rather green. As the day had been so grey the baths were almost empty. We therefore had a great big pond to ourselves. The sun came out just before it set and we swam (no officials around to enforce dipping) up and down parting the leaves and bugs, it was a really nice end to the day and our Hungarian excursion.
Our guide book recommended the Serbian Orthodox Church, but it took a little finding, a plain building, tucked away behind the main Catholic Cathedral. A very old man with a very impressive beard greeted us and, having taken our 40p, hurried inside to switch on the lights and music. Suddenly we went from a dim silence, to find we were surrounded by reds and golds, giant chandeliers and a chorus of what we can only assume is Serbian Orthodox Church music. The whole front of the church was decorated with a beautiful gold tree with saints hanging from it. As the only visitors it seemed a shame there were not more people to appreciate this place, but then I guess the experience would have been very different had the church been full of other flash happy visitors.
Back at the ranch our pitch included admission to the outdoor thermal baths, still not very eggy but rather green. As the day had been so grey the baths were almost empty. We therefore had a great big pond to ourselves. The sun came out just before it set and we swam (no officials around to enforce dipping) up and down parting the leaves and bugs, it was a really nice end to the day and our Hungarian excursion.
Friday 20 July 2007
Timeless
A week into Romania and we only realised that the clock had to be put forward another hour! Having trouble with time/date orientation alot, so lets hope nobody decides to perform a mini mental assessment on us.
We are currently in Transylvania, readying ourselves for a trek into the biggest peaks of the Carpathian Mountains. Hoping the weather gets a little cooler up at 2000 metres. Romania seems to be having a heatwave at the moment, so it can be tough going!! Funny to be complaining about too much sun, when we hear how it is the opposite a little west of us in the British Isles.
Internet resources are scant, so fuller details of our adventures will have to wait till times are more plentyful.
We are currently in Transylvania, readying ourselves for a trek into the biggest peaks of the Carpathian Mountains. Hoping the weather gets a little cooler up at 2000 metres. Romania seems to be having a heatwave at the moment, so it can be tough going!! Funny to be complaining about too much sun, when we hear how it is the opposite a little west of us in the British Isles.
Internet resources are scant, so fuller details of our adventures will have to wait till times are more plentyful.
Monday 9 July 2007
No photos today
Sorry guys, can't seem to upload any photos today. You'll have to just use your imaginations!
Peachy Pécs
Vini Vidi we left! Excuse my poor latin, I hope you are not reading Diddler Doyle. Lake Balaton, that greatest of freshwater lakes in mainland Europe (outside of Scandinavia). Great in size I hasten to add. It is massive and popular with those lovers of water sports and invisible tan lines – all over. Coincidentally there did seem to be a large amount of German registration plates, but then they do like to holiday in Hungary. So a quick drive around some of the western and north eastern sides and off to Pécs in the southwest of Hungary.
This is a visibly old town that has endured various occupations and consequently has lots of architectural relics of these times, roman, hun, ottoman, Hapsburg and others! ‘Tis a small town in size, with a lazy feel to it. According to script we struggled to find our chosen campsite, because it was extinct. Oh lonely planet why dost thou lead me to despair. Luckily the mad lady owner of Familia Camping back in the town was more welcoming. I say mad, maybe moody is a better word. Initially we observed her rooting through our bin bags after we had deposited them in the refuse area. There are no signs to indicate separate bags for recycling etc, but this was the reason behind the sorting. Was ist los mit meinen rubbish bitte? did not throw any light on the subject. Later she demonstrated to Laura how to wash up dishes – properly! Perhaps she has too much time on her hands, certainly too little distance between the business end and the personal views.
She finally made it into the mad league by screaming and shouting at some happy French campers who did not want to camp there, but wanted to pay for use of the facilities, i.e. empty chemical toilet and refill their water tank. The French could not parlais Deutch nur Anglais, but they still appreciated the volatility of this woman “ze wife is mad, oui”? “oui”
On Tuesday we head for Szeged for a brief visit before heading into the world of Romania!
This is a visibly old town that has endured various occupations and consequently has lots of architectural relics of these times, roman, hun, ottoman, Hapsburg and others! ‘Tis a small town in size, with a lazy feel to it. According to script we struggled to find our chosen campsite, because it was extinct. Oh lonely planet why dost thou lead me to despair. Luckily the mad lady owner of Familia Camping back in the town was more welcoming. I say mad, maybe moody is a better word. Initially we observed her rooting through our bin bags after we had deposited them in the refuse area. There are no signs to indicate separate bags for recycling etc, but this was the reason behind the sorting. Was ist los mit meinen rubbish bitte? did not throw any light on the subject. Later she demonstrated to Laura how to wash up dishes – properly! Perhaps she has too much time on her hands, certainly too little distance between the business end and the personal views.
She finally made it into the mad league by screaming and shouting at some happy French campers who did not want to camp there, but wanted to pay for use of the facilities, i.e. empty chemical toilet and refill their water tank. The French could not parlais Deutch nur Anglais, but they still appreciated the volatility of this woman “ze wife is mad, oui”? “oui”
On Tuesday we head for Szeged for a brief visit before heading into the world of Romania!
We dipped but got no tingle
While travelling through Hungary we felt it almost impolite not to sample the very popular national pastime of dipping in thermal baths (unsure of correct verb). There is no swimming allowed, we were seriously informed, you must just sit. So sit we did in 36 degree mineral rich water and waited for something to happen. It was not unpleasant, rather like a giant bath tub (without the bubbles), mostly full of people of an older generation hoping for relief from various aches, pains and disorders. We stayed till we were good and wrinkly and with free access because we were camping in the grounds we wanted our money’s worth of thermal healing. Myself I’m not sure I’d bother again, Tom said he would as long as it smelt more eggy (slightly suspicious of true mineral content). Personally I can’t think of anything much worse than eggy water so he’d be on his own there.
A Tale of Two Cities
This is an invitation to Ken Livingstone to come and visit this city and experience public transport in a major capital city achieving its goal. Transport for London eat your heart out. With a combination of bus, train, metro and tram at your disposal, Budapest is very easy to navigate. The ticket options are broad and wait for it…cheap…a public service for the public and not the pockets of the private and few.
Budapest straddles the Danube in ancient history and modern elegance. While Buda is very old and somewhat sleepy it is a suitable contrast to the more lively and energetic Pest. We teutonically didn’t mix the two sides, seeing each side separately. It’s important to have a system, especially in this heat and humidity! I guess you get the humidity in most cities, but with the extra heat you start to look like a sweaty athlete. Still so far its better than rain and the unfortunate floods that are happening in the UK. Hope everybody is ok.
As our finances naturally are decreasing, we are becoming more aware of spending! So we ate in a cafeteria housed in an old cloister for £3 each with lion sized portions of goulash. Hard to know what the authentic goulash is as it seems to vary so much, but it is delicious and the belly seems to like it. It is always good to see locals in your chosen eatery scoffing down the same meal as yourself.
In Pest we travelled on continental Europe’s oldest metro, which seemed to have air conditioning! Splashed out on some very tasty food and walked our legs off. So many wonderful styles of architecture to be seen, which I am too ignorant to know, plenty of money in them there bricks though. I imagine that property is not cheap here at all, as outside the centre you can see lots of tower blocks, which seem to be inhabited by middle class people too. They are not the population to be seen in Ballymun or Tower Hamlets.
Whatever about the Danube being beautiful, it is also a mosquito infested backwater, or so Laura might say! I can play join the lumps on her legs, where the mozys have attacked her. Luckily my Mediterranean-Irish blood is not so tasty.
We are off to a thermal spa for a bit of pampering tomorrow as we head for Lake Velencei-to. Our campsite there has free access to the bathing waters. Luckily my burns have healed and are turning into warrior scars!
Budapest straddles the Danube in ancient history and modern elegance. While Buda is very old and somewhat sleepy it is a suitable contrast to the more lively and energetic Pest. We teutonically didn’t mix the two sides, seeing each side separately. It’s important to have a system, especially in this heat and humidity! I guess you get the humidity in most cities, but with the extra heat you start to look like a sweaty athlete. Still so far its better than rain and the unfortunate floods that are happening in the UK. Hope everybody is ok.
As our finances naturally are decreasing, we are becoming more aware of spending! So we ate in a cafeteria housed in an old cloister for £3 each with lion sized portions of goulash. Hard to know what the authentic goulash is as it seems to vary so much, but it is delicious and the belly seems to like it. It is always good to see locals in your chosen eatery scoffing down the same meal as yourself.
In Pest we travelled on continental Europe’s oldest metro, which seemed to have air conditioning! Splashed out on some very tasty food and walked our legs off. So many wonderful styles of architecture to be seen, which I am too ignorant to know, plenty of money in them there bricks though. I imagine that property is not cheap here at all, as outside the centre you can see lots of tower blocks, which seem to be inhabited by middle class people too. They are not the population to be seen in Ballymun or Tower Hamlets.
Whatever about the Danube being beautiful, it is also a mosquito infested backwater, or so Laura might say! I can play join the lumps on her legs, where the mozys have attacked her. Luckily my Mediterranean-Irish blood is not so tasty.
We are off to a thermal spa for a bit of pampering tomorrow as we head for Lake Velencei-to. Our campsite there has free access to the bathing waters. Luckily my burns have healed and are turning into warrior scars!
Modern Living
This is one of the reconstructed houses viewable in the ethnographic museum outside Szetendre. Lots of wood and straw and wattle clay walls.Bliss on the Danube
Camping on the Danube Bend, that most beautiful of European waterways. Sadly, we picked a campsite that was also home to an unruly mob of yoga lovers! I thought these chaps were into peaceful meditation and sitting quietly in odd positions. At 5am I was awoken to loud bell ringing as the yoga master summoned his flock. Then just as I was returning to my beautiful slumber the laughing began. What worsened the situation was that this large group of obviously insane people, maybe 30 in population and only 8 metres from Napoleon and his two soldiers, were forcing themselves to laugh and at 5 in the morning too. There was no laughter inside Napoleon for a while.
At a more sensible hour we emerged and cycled up alongside the Danube to Szob, a mere jaunt at 13 km either way. Szob almost bordering Slovakia should be twinned with Lands’ End in Cornwall for its theme park and emptiness.
Across the Danube we could make out the ruins of the Citadel of Visigrad perched high and lofty on ‘the bend’, while the upper class cut up the river in happy abandonment. No need to fear for the frog population in this area, the males are singing a song of love and loneliness at night time, they even answered my singing they were so desperate.
After a day or so we caught the ferry across to the western side of the river, and headed for Budapest, with a little detour at Szetendre and its ethnographic museum. This is well worth a visit. Essentially it’s a large 10 acre site, displaying remnants of rural Hungarian life of the last millennium. The Hungarian state has moved cottages, farmsteads and other vestiges of rural life to this site in order to preserve them and educate people. Ironically, while life for the villagers then would have been difficult at times, these villages and the rural life on view seems so appealing to me now! the little cottage industries of bee keeping, fabric making, gardening, a few hens, and houses made of local resources. I can see Kevin McCloud of Grand Designs nodding along in approval at the manner these homes were constructed.Onwards to the ancient city of Budapest.
At a more sensible hour we emerged and cycled up alongside the Danube to Szob, a mere jaunt at 13 km either way. Szob almost bordering Slovakia should be twinned with Lands’ End in Cornwall for its theme park and emptiness.
Across the Danube we could make out the ruins of the Citadel of Visigrad perched high and lofty on ‘the bend’, while the upper class cut up the river in happy abandonment. No need to fear for the frog population in this area, the males are singing a song of love and loneliness at night time, they even answered my singing they were so desperate.
After a day or so we caught the ferry across to the western side of the river, and headed for Budapest, with a little detour at Szetendre and its ethnographic museum. This is well worth a visit. Essentially it’s a large 10 acre site, displaying remnants of rural Hungarian life of the last millennium. The Hungarian state has moved cottages, farmsteads and other vestiges of rural life to this site in order to preserve them and educate people. Ironically, while life for the villagers then would have been difficult at times, these villages and the rural life on view seems so appealing to me now! the little cottage industries of bee keeping, fabric making, gardening, a few hens, and houses made of local resources. I can see Kevin McCloud of Grand Designs nodding along in approval at the manner these homes were constructed.Onwards to the ancient city of Budapest.
Thursday 28 June 2007
Bull's Blood
Managed to accidentally create cruise control on the van! More scary antics by the van Napoleon. Imagine you take your foot off the accelerator and the vehicle continues at the same speed unless you brake or lower the gears. Investigations with the help of James discovered a tie clip stuck around the accelerator cable. Whatever way it had been caught it was preventing the cable from relaxing.
Eger, famous for….Bulls Blood, for all you wine lovers. £1 per litre of very fine and immeniently drinkable vino rosso. We are camped about a field away from the wine cellars, so this is altogether very pleasant.
Finally managed to get GAS. After asking lots of people and attempting to buy a new large Hungarian Gas cylinder, was beginning to wonder if a gas bottle was an item to be inherited as opposed to bought. Finally a breakthrough, whoopee. More generosity, when a mechanic drove us to where our camping gaz bottles were refilled at a PrimaGaz depot. A feisty beautiful hotpants clad lady served us with a lot of macho kindness! We were also able to purchase a full large cylinder. Kerching! The mechanic would only take a firm handshake and plenty of verbal thankings. Yet again the warmth and love for humanity is restored.
Besides the wine, this is a lovely old medieval town, also famous for briefly defeating the onslaught by the Ottoman Empire and soldiers, as per usual with only a handful of men, they held an army hostage!!!
There are plenty of old town buildings to keep the eye amused and the people are all fairly friendly. Haven’t managed to sample the nightlife, but the vibe is all quite chilled, unless you are wishing to use the post office. Queues and verbals!
Next stop is Visigrad, slightly north of Budapest, once we manage to drag ourselves away from the vineyard. Good thing we have some empty bottles we can refill with wine to go!
Eger, famous for….Bulls Blood, for all you wine lovers. £1 per litre of very fine and immeniently drinkable vino rosso. We are camped about a field away from the wine cellars, so this is altogether very pleasant.
Finally managed to get GAS. After asking lots of people and attempting to buy a new large Hungarian Gas cylinder, was beginning to wonder if a gas bottle was an item to be inherited as opposed to bought. Finally a breakthrough, whoopee. More generosity, when a mechanic drove us to where our camping gaz bottles were refilled at a PrimaGaz depot. A feisty beautiful hotpants clad lady served us with a lot of macho kindness! We were also able to purchase a full large cylinder. Kerching! The mechanic would only take a firm handshake and plenty of verbal thankings. Yet again the warmth and love for humanity is restored.
Besides the wine, this is a lovely old medieval town, also famous for briefly defeating the onslaught by the Ottoman Empire and soldiers, as per usual with only a handful of men, they held an army hostage!!!
There are plenty of old town buildings to keep the eye amused and the people are all fairly friendly. Haven’t managed to sample the nightlife, but the vibe is all quite chilled, unless you are wishing to use the post office. Queues and verbals!
Next stop is Visigrad, slightly north of Budapest, once we manage to drag ourselves away from the vineyard. Good thing we have some empty bottles we can refill with wine to go!
Policeman Plod
Day 36 was a particularly frustrating day. It began with a drive along a nice road clearly marked on the map which would have taken us conveniently to our next destination. Unfortunately this road turned out to be closed. Even more unfortunate was that we only discovered this when we were pulled over by a policeman. A £20 fine did not put us in the best of moods and also left us rather short of cash. When we found they wanted £5 just to park at the Ice Caves it was not a difficult decision to drop this from our itinerary. We then drove back and forth or rather up and down a spectacularly winding stretch of mountainous road, straight out of a Bond movie. First in search of an ATM, then a campsite, which turned out not to be suitable for campervans (nice level pitches just no way of driving onto them, not even for off-road Napoleon Sport), so back down the series of U-bends and off to another site just north of the Hungarian border. Another incredible thunderstorm rounded off ‘one of those days’.
An early start the next day enabled an easy border crossing (no risk of over heating this time) and we entered our 8th country.
An early start the next day enabled an easy border crossing (no risk of over heating this time) and we entered our 8th country.
I Fell in to a Burning Ring of Fire! and I Yelped
Feel like a proper fool writing this recollection of the fire story. Essentially made the mistake of attempting to connect the portable stove to the non resealable gas cylinder inside the van. Mental checklist decided there was no flammable source nearby – forgetting the flame at the back of the fridge. How could I have forgotten the damn fridge and all the twiddling I have been doing there. Still, with these type of cylinders you expect a small leaking of gas prior to tightening. The following happened in milliseconds. Gas spraying faster than normal, me tightening superfast the cylinder to stove. Running for the door, fireball engulfing me and van, jumping out of the van and dropping the burning cylinder, trying to put out the cylinder with a wet towel, towel on fire, fire extinguished, help from neighbours. Complete shock set in as damage to van non visible, L’s feet looking red, me smelling very singed.
We managed collectively to remember the need for cold water soakage. Spent 30 minutes under an icy cold shower and then the rest of the night with my arms immersed in a basin of cold water. Managed to avoid hypothermia in the process and the heat from the burns was much lessened.
Despite all the above happenings, I feel lucky.
We managed collectively to remember the need for cold water soakage. Spent 30 minutes under an icy cold shower and then the rest of the night with my arms immersed in a basin of cold water. Managed to avoid hypothermia in the process and the heat from the burns was much lessened.
Despite all the above happenings, I feel lucky.
Podlesok - what a great name!
One of the best things about this kind of travelling, is being able to change your plans and add new places based on recommendations from fellow travellers. Kim and James had heard about some adventurous walks in the nearby Narodny Slovesky Raj National Park. We found our cheerfully named Podlesok campsite and were even more pleased with the price (£4.50 with electric) and set off along one of the trails. It was marked on the map as one-way only, and it soon became obvious why. Wooden planks turned into metal step ladders as we climbed up the side of waterfalls. Fortunately at this time of year water levels are fairly low, but I imagine in spring you’d get fairly wet on some of the stretches. A stash of monkey nuts was our prize for reaching the top of the valley and then we came back down on a much les interesting path back to Podlesok.
On the second day we headed along another adventure path, which this time favoured metal platforms suspended above a gushing river. Handily placed metal chains made going a little easier – this was certainly a change from pine forests. This route however was two-way so there was plenty of waiting around for opposing groups to get over the next obstacle, as neither of us fancied trying to pass while clinging to the rock face. We came back via a path that took us steeply up the side of the gorge and traversed along the top ridge providing lovely views of the valley and river we had hung over earlier. Tom saw his first snake, which crossed the path directly in front of him, too quick to identify or photo and neither of us volunteered to go into the undergrowth to seek it out any further.
That evening we had rather more adventure than we had planned as a fire almost started in the van. Miraculously the material damage was minor, but a few nasty burns will leave an unwelcome reminder of the episode for a good few weeks to come. Having rocked the campsite with our explosion, we are primarily just relieved that it was not any worse, but recommend that you do not buy or use the small red single pierce gas canister and stove from Lidl. A torrential thunderstorm, where the sky literally turned deep purple marked our midsummer’s’ eve in Slovakia.
On the second day we headed along another adventure path, which this time favoured metal platforms suspended above a gushing river. Handily placed metal chains made going a little easier – this was certainly a change from pine forests. This route however was two-way so there was plenty of waiting around for opposing groups to get over the next obstacle, as neither of us fancied trying to pass while clinging to the rock face. We came back via a path that took us steeply up the side of the gorge and traversed along the top ridge providing lovely views of the valley and river we had hung over earlier. Tom saw his first snake, which crossed the path directly in front of him, too quick to identify or photo and neither of us volunteered to go into the undergrowth to seek it out any further.
That evening we had rather more adventure than we had planned as a fire almost started in the van. Miraculously the material damage was minor, but a few nasty burns will leave an unwelcome reminder of the episode for a good few weeks to come. Having rocked the campsite with our explosion, we are primarily just relieved that it was not any worse, but recommend that you do not buy or use the small red single pierce gas canister and stove from Lidl. A torrential thunderstorm, where the sky literally turned deep purple marked our midsummer’s’ eve in Slovakia.
Our first proper castle
Levoca is supposed to have one of Slovakia’s best preserved old town fortifications. It certainly has a substantial wall surrounding the centre and the large square with very charming buildings makes for an interesting wander. Most interesting however I found was the ‘cage of shame’. It looked like a giant bird cage, but was in fact a place where ‘sinful women’ were locked up to consider their wrong doings!
Away now from the touristy mountain resorts, we began to see a little more of the typical Slovakian homes and families. As we walked out from the centre and down more residential streets the pavements gave way to gravel and grass and children rather than cars owned the streets. Many of the people looked of Romany descent and for the first time I felt I was obviously not in western Europe.
The next day we hitched a ride with Kim & James and went to visit Spissky Hrad (Spis Castle). Now this was a castle that looked like a castle, not the great palaces or mansions of Prague or Krakow. A ruin of course as seems to be obligatory, the current residents are a swarm (unknown collective noun) of gofer/squirrel/giant hamster type creatures who kept popping in and out of holes which spread across most of the site. The castle unfortunately had rather too many annoying school parties than we would have preferred, but the best part was the museum. While only small, you could touch almost everything on show, a really refreshing change from other places with shouting guards on every corner. The dungeon and torture chamber was not my favourite place, but if you like rib crushers and other horrendous implements that you can but imagine their past uses you’d be right at home.
Away now from the touristy mountain resorts, we began to see a little more of the typical Slovakian homes and families. As we walked out from the centre and down more residential streets the pavements gave way to gravel and grass and children rather than cars owned the streets. Many of the people looked of Romany descent and for the first time I felt I was obviously not in western Europe.
The next day we hitched a ride with Kim & James and went to visit Spissky Hrad (Spis Castle). Now this was a castle that looked like a castle, not the great palaces or mansions of Prague or Krakow. A ruin of course as seems to be obligatory, the current residents are a swarm (unknown collective noun) of gofer/squirrel/giant hamster type creatures who kept popping in and out of holes which spread across most of the site. The castle unfortunately had rather too many annoying school parties than we would have preferred, but the best part was the museum. While only small, you could touch almost everything on show, a really refreshing change from other places with shouting guards on every corner. The dungeon and torture chamber was not my favourite place, but if you like rib crushers and other horrendous implements that you can but imagine their past uses you’d be right at home.
Thank you Tom Cruise
We stayed a while in the Tatras, on the other side of the border – Slovakia. Very different landscape, as a storm in 2003 knocked down 3 million of the existing trees across the mountain and surrounding slopes. Consequently, it does appear slightly war torn. There are efforts to reforest the area, but on a year by year basis. It does give other plants the opportunity to bloom and enjoy the open canopy. Plenty of lupins and other to be named wild plants abound, including strawberries – still not ripe.
My first trip on a cable car, went smoothly. Still not sure if I can state that I have a fear of heights, perhaps it is more a fear of falling. We met up with Kim and James again on the same campsite. We realised that we are both heading in roughly the same direction until Eger in Hungary. Very nice to have company and conversations with like minded people again. Noticed that a lot of the Slovakian men out hiking carry hip flasks and gather away from their wives and act like young lads doing a spot of knacker drinking. Spotted several greater spotted woodpeckers, pun intended, happily sculpting the trees.
The allure of the resort townlands, mountain walks and school tours elapsed after a few days and so we planned to head for somewhere a bit more Slovakian. Unfortunately Napoleon decided he preferred the resort with a flat battery! By this stage everyone bar the young caretaker had left for the day. Various attempts at recharging the battery via the leisure battery failed and succeeded in smashing my dreams of becoming a self taught mechanic. No hill in sight for a push start, no jump leads, no Slovakian language, no Lithuanian, no inspiration. We began to pester newcomers as they arrived utilising all communication techniques. Finally a splurge of generosity, not only a jump start was provided, but also a gift of the jump leads. Thank you to the Tom Cruise lookalike, who almost electrocuted himself while doing it.
Napoleon with engine running stopped off after 20 minutes for some necessities in LIDL. We opted to mistakenly leave the engine running, while I ran in and shopped. After a few minutes the engine started to steam up and the coolant spewed forth out of the overflow facility. Luckily, the battery had taken enough charge on and we were able to continue safely if not slightly wearily to Levoca.
Keep wondering why do we have these incidents occurring? I always assumed that these happened to other people and not me, but then Napoleon is 19 years old. No point becoming a fixer unless I acquire some tools as opposed to relying on the generosity of others. Still, invented a novel way of travelling – drive with a flat battery and jump leads, then try and meet people, stop them in the middle of the road and attempt to ask for help, guaranteed to definitely meet people.
My first trip on a cable car, went smoothly. Still not sure if I can state that I have a fear of heights, perhaps it is more a fear of falling. We met up with Kim and James again on the same campsite. We realised that we are both heading in roughly the same direction until Eger in Hungary. Very nice to have company and conversations with like minded people again. Noticed that a lot of the Slovakian men out hiking carry hip flasks and gather away from their wives and act like young lads doing a spot of knacker drinking. Spotted several greater spotted woodpeckers, pun intended, happily sculpting the trees.
The allure of the resort townlands, mountain walks and school tours elapsed after a few days and so we planned to head for somewhere a bit more Slovakian. Unfortunately Napoleon decided he preferred the resort with a flat battery! By this stage everyone bar the young caretaker had left for the day. Various attempts at recharging the battery via the leisure battery failed and succeeded in smashing my dreams of becoming a self taught mechanic. No hill in sight for a push start, no jump leads, no Slovakian language, no Lithuanian, no inspiration. We began to pester newcomers as they arrived utilising all communication techniques. Finally a splurge of generosity, not only a jump start was provided, but also a gift of the jump leads. Thank you to the Tom Cruise lookalike, who almost electrocuted himself while doing it.
Napoleon with engine running stopped off after 20 minutes for some necessities in LIDL. We opted to mistakenly leave the engine running, while I ran in and shopped. After a few minutes the engine started to steam up and the coolant spewed forth out of the overflow facility. Luckily, the battery had taken enough charge on and we were able to continue safely if not slightly wearily to Levoca.
Keep wondering why do we have these incidents occurring? I always assumed that these happened to other people and not me, but then Napoleon is 19 years old. No point becoming a fixer unless I acquire some tools as opposed to relying on the generosity of others. Still, invented a novel way of travelling – drive with a flat battery and jump leads, then try and meet people, stop them in the middle of the road and attempt to ask for help, guaranteed to definitely meet people.
Up and down another mountain
At the entrance to the Tatra National Park lies the resort of Zakopane. We soon discovered that the town itself has nothing more to offer than rows of tacky souvenir stalls and take away kiosks, but it is a very convenient base to explore the mountains. The appealing cable car was unfortunately shut for complete restoration until December, so we knew our walking was going to have to start with a climb. The tourist office had rather ominously suggested that as June is the wettest month in the Tatras, we would be best advised not to venture there at all – some advert! On returning to the campsite, we met another couple from England, Kim & James, who recounted a tale of giant hailstones and no shelter on the ridges, so we began to have doubts about the sensibility of our plan. The next morning however the sun was shining and we were feeling brave, so set off up the mountain.
The first part of the route took us past dry ski jumps. Having only ever seen them on television, watching these crazy people in real life hurtling down the narrow shoots and flying off the end was an awe inspiring sight. The hillsides were littered with chairs lifts which looked rather out of place on a sunny June day. You got the feeling this place undergoes quite a transformation with the changing seasons. We headed up the Dolina Strazyska valley floor, a relatively flat introduction to what lay ahead. At the top of the valley the path turned upwards and a three and a half hour unrelenting ascent took us to our destination of Mount Giewont at 1895m. Views from the top were amazing, as were the size of my blisters. Came back down a much busier trail, passing lots of red faces still heading upwards.
A day of well deserved rest followed, partly also enforced by the weather which had returned to intermittent storms and showers. We were invited round to Kim & James’ van for the evening, which felt like a grand hotel compared to old Napoleon. Lovely gin fuelled evening passed quickly, exchanging travel stories and collecting lots of helpful tips. Plan now more likely to include Greece, with aim of catching ferry to visit Slovenia and Croatia, rather than driving back around Serbia etc.
The first part of the route took us past dry ski jumps. Having only ever seen them on television, watching these crazy people in real life hurtling down the narrow shoots and flying off the end was an awe inspiring sight. The hillsides were littered with chairs lifts which looked rather out of place on a sunny June day. You got the feeling this place undergoes quite a transformation with the changing seasons. We headed up the Dolina Strazyska valley floor, a relatively flat introduction to what lay ahead. At the top of the valley the path turned upwards and a three and a half hour unrelenting ascent took us to our destination of Mount Giewont at 1895m. Views from the top were amazing, as were the size of my blisters. Came back down a much busier trail, passing lots of red faces still heading upwards.
A day of well deserved rest followed, partly also enforced by the weather which had returned to intermittent storms and showers. We were invited round to Kim & James’ van for the evening, which felt like a grand hotel compared to old Napoleon. Lovely gin fuelled evening passed quickly, exchanging travel stories and collecting lots of helpful tips. Plan now more likely to include Greece, with aim of catching ferry to visit Slovenia and Croatia, rather than driving back around Serbia etc.
Saturday 16 June 2007
Still not Chillin’
Tommy not a fixer. A thief stole his crown and poisoned his work. In order to drive from Krakow to Zakopane we had to switch the fridge’s power source over from gas to car battery. Sadly the fridge would not relight despite the presence of an ignition spark. The conclusion reached was this was due to a gas problem. Whatever about feeling comfortable and knowledgeable about twiddling some wires, dealing with a gas problem is slightly bewildering. So I stubbornly refused to give in and took the fridge out again. The gas flow was sickeningly fine along the inlet pipe. There was no leak detected. I refused to take apart the thermal heater unit, where the gas jet, ignition gun and thermocouple are housed, as I might not be able to put it back together. Of course the only way to know if the fridge is fixed is to reinstall it as described previously. Did this and still no flame. I took the fridge out again with my Spartan tools and this time removed and blew out some rusty debris from the thermal heater unit. Reinstalled it, this time a little faster as I now have a system in place!! Finally got the bugger lit. Unfortunately I am none the wiser, just perhaps a little lucky and a lot stubborn. No jubilation this time. Does anybody know if the gas jet that propels the gas into the thermal heater chamber can deteriorate, say after 20 years and cause a malfunction in normal operation procedures? I know the sensible option would be to take it to a specialist who knows about gas and appliances. We are considering our options regarding the fridge as we are going to run out of camping gaz again, and then we wont be able to use the fridge anyway. We are pondering the possibilities of living through Bulgaria/Greece without a fridge in august. Any ideas?
We Want to Chill
I’m getting my wish to find out how machines work!! Woke up to find one of the precious gas cylinders was empty, so the fridge was turned off automatically. Unfortunately, the piezo ignition was not sending a spark onto the gas jet. Of course the thermal heating unit in the fridge is right at the back. So began an adventure involving me supine lying using a multi tool spanner – one normally not much use except for bike nuts. The lack of space meant that I could only rotate the bolt about 2mm at a time. To make matters worse the carpet was stinking, as a result of leaking water from the fridge door seal. Managed to finally disconnect the gas pipe from the unit and remove the fridge. Gave the ignition cable a twiddle and the spark was back! Tommy the Fixer! Put the unit back in and attempted to get a good seal on the gas inlet pipe, testing it with soapy water and not with a flaming match!!
Ultimately, don’t know why it stopped working.
Ultimately, don’t know why it stopped working.
Krakow revisited
It had been 9 years since I was last in Krakow and I was very keen for it to feature on our route through Poland. Strangely though, while I remember really taking to the city, I had very few memories of much of it’s contents, primarily due I guess to experiencing it through a teenage girls eyes, when there are lots of other very important things going on during school trips…! Either way, I was glad to find it still very appealing, if somewhat busier. Cheap air fares have certainly boosted tourist numbers. There are also now very few Fiat 126’s around, a sight I remember to be very common on my previous trip.
Our first visit was up to Wavel Hill. Even by 10.30am all the tickets had been sold for the day’s tours, however we were quite content just to walk round the castle grounds and courtyards for a while. There is something about the outside of the cathedral which makes it extremely pleasing to look at and it was just nice to enjoy being in its presence. After a while wandering, we headed down and across to the old Jewish quarter, Kazimierz. This area was much quieter, and the resulting atmosphere seemed particularly fitting given its history. Many of the synagogues are now museums, documenting the horrific story of the fate of 30% of Krakows population during WWII. One cemetery was of particular note, as quick thinking residents of the time had managed to bury the entire site so that the advancing Nazis would not loot the graves – not even the dead were spared. We had a lovely meal in a traditional Jewish restaurant with lace tablecloths, well used candlesticks and klezmer music in the background. Delicious thick, dark onion soup to start – yum. After lunch we made our way to the old town centre and re-visited some of my strongest memories. My favourite building, the huge cloth hall was unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your view point) undergoing renovation work and so a large proportion of the main square was cordoned off with high metal fencing. There was also a rehearsal underway on an immense stage that still only took up a small area of the square, and so the air was full of opera (and horses – as they lined up to make the most of the tourists). Tom managed to find his shoe shop "athletes foot" not a name you forget in a hurry, but nothing tempted him on this visit. A loop around the park which surrounds the old fortifications took us back to our pick up point and we were duly taken back to our campsite a few kms out of the city.
Olla-Moats
Our first hostel stay since we left, and what a fine city to chose. A student town, north of Brno, and on the way to Poland. It is a fine old historic town that seems to be mainly off the tourist trail and is mainly populated by heavily subsidised students. We stayed in a hostel called ‘Poet’s Corner’, which may be the nicest hostel I have ever stayed in. Small, friendly, homely, great atmosphere, lots of like minded people, great furniture and owners that want you to get a feel for the town itself. The fact that both L and I have been almost exclusive conversation partners to each other since we left, meant that talking to other people was great, alternatively stimulating, and informative about future destinations. I had forgotten about the benefits of hostelling.
The town itself is fairly small, bespoke with cobbles and ramparts, two fine town squares, a cheesy communist astronomical clock, monuments to the past, plenty of green spaces, a fine cathedral and finer churches. When the Hapsburgs were the emperors in this part of the world, they chose this town as their royal seat and the effect still survives in the buildings that line the twisting streets. Our disorientated arrival was routine, but was made worse by the old layout of the town and one way streets. This is not a level town, nay it is up and down with streets that a Viking would be proud of in their narrow warren likeness. Of course Napoleon took a trip around these streets trying to find somewhere his owners weren’t sure where this was. Plenty of odd looks and big smiles were received on this motorised stroll through town, until we were pulled over by the Policei. We had entered a square from the North, but instead of treating it like a roundabout and going to the right (continental rules!) we went to the left…..at first I thought he was waving in salute to Napoleon, but then I realised. Luckily L was a little faster to react and explained in the old silly tourist trick voice that we were lost. Personally I think it helps that she is not a man, but we escaped with no penalty and sort of helpful directions. We spent a few nights in this town and would recommend both the town and hostel as a place for a good few days holidaying that will be both cheap and memorable, even if you don’t get the opportunity to break the rules of the road.
The town itself is fairly small, bespoke with cobbles and ramparts, two fine town squares, a cheesy communist astronomical clock, monuments to the past, plenty of green spaces, a fine cathedral and finer churches. When the Hapsburgs were the emperors in this part of the world, they chose this town as their royal seat and the effect still survives in the buildings that line the twisting streets. Our disorientated arrival was routine, but was made worse by the old layout of the town and one way streets. This is not a level town, nay it is up and down with streets that a Viking would be proud of in their narrow warren likeness. Of course Napoleon took a trip around these streets trying to find somewhere his owners weren’t sure where this was. Plenty of odd looks and big smiles were received on this motorised stroll through town, until we were pulled over by the Policei. We had entered a square from the North, but instead of treating it like a roundabout and going to the right (continental rules!) we went to the left…..at first I thought he was waving in salute to Napoleon, but then I realised. Luckily L was a little faster to react and explained in the old silly tourist trick voice that we were lost. Personally I think it helps that she is not a man, but we escaped with no penalty and sort of helpful directions. We spent a few nights in this town and would recommend both the town and hostel as a place for a good few days holidaying that will be both cheap and memorable, even if you don’t get the opportunity to break the rules of the road.
Ich bin neun und siebzig…
The next day we did our tourist trip around some of the caves this region is famous for. Very impressive, particularly the Macocha Abyss, a huge hole in the ground 140m deep, and accessible through a network of underground tunnels several kms long. Some were partly flooded, or drained perhaps, to allow for a very limited head room trip back on a narrow boat. The highlight of the day however occurred first thing, just a few hundred yards from our site. We were stopped by the side of the road, as Tom, yet again, attempted to fix the gears on my bike. An old lady, of 79 we later found out, pulled up along side us and requested the loan of our bicycle pump (and Tom’s muscles). Unfortunately it turned out it was not compatible with her 50 year old bike, but she was more than keen for a chat (in far superior German) and told us all about her life and family, the local area and nature, and was also very curious about us and our lives. We knew we would be there for a while as she leaned in against her bike and made herself comfortable, but it was an absolute pleasure talking to her (or listening at least and catching glimpses of what she was saying) and it felt quite sad when we had to part company. Later on in the day as we were cycling the long route home the chain broke on my bike (currently being ridden by Tom as gears now stuck on most difficult setting). As we started pushing the bikes the last 4km home, a friendly Czech guy cycled up behind us and offered to try to fix the chain. This he did and with much gratitude we were on our merry way again. Though I think Tom is quite keen for me to purchase a new set of wheels sooner rather than later, so he can have his own bike back.
The Good Life
Telc, a small town halfway between Praha and Brno invites the tour buses for a few hours to view its perfect square and heavily influenced renaissance style architecture. On first viewing, it appears more like a set from a wild west film, with facades and shop fronts, which stand out with their colours of a different era and formal shaped friezes. The square is also quite long, so a shoot out at dawn wouldn’t stretch the imagination. For me though, the appeal was to cycle around the well marked trails in the Moravian countryside. I am starting to think that there must be a Czech Law which enforces the conversion of orchards into campsites. Certainly makes a summer stay more pleasant, with fresh fruit there for the taking.
Finally managed to get an authentic sense of the friendliness of the people. Despite arriving at the shop during its closed period, the owner still insisted on opening up with a warmth and welcome. When we asked for bread we were met with a sad face, and then she rushed into her kitchen and handed us a half eaten loaf from her own larder. Though very touched by this gesture, we couldn’t take the loaf. Lunch was revised and amended to deal with the loss of bread. We did a fine cycle combined with a grand walk up an 836m small hill! We declared war on the world of flies. The Horseflies out here look different and are larger, even more vicious and unfriendly.
We swapped bikes, for a trial, which is becoming more permanent. Essentially my bike has more gears and I prefer the challenge of cycling up 15% slopes in 12th gear than L. Yes, no more bike walking for me. Alas, I missed my suspension and brakes, when I went flying over a trailhead and down a very rocky downhill, still it was good to get the shot of adrenaline which helped me survive.
Find myself continuously marvelling at the amount of old Skodas and Ladas holding their own on the roads. They have that classic car shape as drawn by young boys, with a solid simple design and probably simple enough mechanics as well. Makes you wonder about the continuous drive of the market to recreate the motorcar. We could probably learn a few things from communism regarding waste. I am finding myself more and more wanting to understand the workings of machines. Perhaps a course will be booked on my return. Timber works are widespread, as are allotment sized vegetable gardens. Sampled some of the local funghi – ‘Chicken of the Forest’ – it looks highly toxic and doesn’t taste of anything. Though the foraging books recommend cooking it in a casserole and I cooked it in an omelette.
Our stay finished with me failing to tame some wild kittens and the purchase of some locally made wine and honey -: solid white honey which tastes divine and cheap as chips.
On the face of it, all seems quite an attractive way of life. Hmm, how to own a campsite, orchard, wild kittens, beehives and vineyard? Perhaps Felicity will drop by too.
Finally managed to get an authentic sense of the friendliness of the people. Despite arriving at the shop during its closed period, the owner still insisted on opening up with a warmth and welcome. When we asked for bread we were met with a sad face, and then she rushed into her kitchen and handed us a half eaten loaf from her own larder. Though very touched by this gesture, we couldn’t take the loaf. Lunch was revised and amended to deal with the loss of bread. We did a fine cycle combined with a grand walk up an 836m small hill! We declared war on the world of flies. The Horseflies out here look different and are larger, even more vicious and unfriendly.
We swapped bikes, for a trial, which is becoming more permanent. Essentially my bike has more gears and I prefer the challenge of cycling up 15% slopes in 12th gear than L. Yes, no more bike walking for me. Alas, I missed my suspension and brakes, when I went flying over a trailhead and down a very rocky downhill, still it was good to get the shot of adrenaline which helped me survive.
Find myself continuously marvelling at the amount of old Skodas and Ladas holding their own on the roads. They have that classic car shape as drawn by young boys, with a solid simple design and probably simple enough mechanics as well. Makes you wonder about the continuous drive of the market to recreate the motorcar. We could probably learn a few things from communism regarding waste. I am finding myself more and more wanting to understand the workings of machines. Perhaps a course will be booked on my return. Timber works are widespread, as are allotment sized vegetable gardens. Sampled some of the local funghi – ‘Chicken of the Forest’ – it looks highly toxic and doesn’t taste of anything. Though the foraging books recommend cooking it in a casserole and I cooked it in an omelette.
Our stay finished with me failing to tame some wild kittens and the purchase of some locally made wine and honey -: solid white honey which tastes divine and cheap as chips.
On the face of it, all seems quite an attractive way of life. Hmm, how to own a campsite, orchard, wild kittens, beehives and vineyard? Perhaps Felicity will drop by too.
The campsite that never was
Our next planned destination was Brno, the Czech Republic’s second city. Our trusty ACSI list informed us the closest campsite was 10km up river situated on the banks of a reservoir, sounds nice huh? And I’m sure it was, however it appears it is no longer there. One thing we can say with certainty, is that it is not up the red marked trail which continues on beyond where the road itself ends. We can also reliably state that performing turns in the road (or path) with a steep drop one side and jagged rock face the other is no mean feat (well done Tom). Feeling thoroughly fed up with Bruno already, before we had really seen any of it, we changed our plan and headed a few days earlier than planned to Sloup (what a fabulous name) and into the Moravian Karst Region just NE of Bruno.
The campsite was located up a lane, right next to the local football ground, and it seemed the whole village was there to support (we think it was a home win too, but the owner seemed to suggest that the after-celebrations would take place irrespective of the final score). Tom went off foraging again and had a salad of dandelion leaves, poppy petals and clover flowers. He also identified camomile, sweet Cecily, burdock and tansy growing around the site.
Cesky (Pesky) Krumlov
A must see town, according to all the tour books, which mildly indicates the popularity of this ‘little Praha’. Much flouted for being an intact medieval city, it is awash with tours and tourists alike, all racing for the castle. The charm of the place is still there, cobbled streets, minimum vehicle usage of roads, a strong sense of the past, and not just in the awful costumes and displays that seem to be everywhere, but in the buildings and their exteriors. We cycled into town from our campsite, 5 km downstream. A campsite that was immensely popular with those kayak-camping along the river. They load all their gear into waterproof, sealable containers which they carry in their boats. The containers can also be used (badly) as drums when drunk!!
We didn’t complete a tour of the castle there, as we had completed one in Praha, so after wandering around the town and looking inside some of the fine buildings, we cycled back to the campsite and had a game of Boules. Watched some Czech kids play haki sak. These guys were quite skilled at it, in comparison to myself, a few fancy tricks were being shown off. Glad to have a game of something though, and of course to win.
We didn’t complete a tour of the castle there, as we had completed one in Praha, so after wandering around the town and looking inside some of the fine buildings, we cycled back to the campsite and had a game of Boules. Watched some Czech kids play haki sak. These guys were quite skilled at it, in comparison to myself, a few fancy tricks were being shown off. Glad to have a game of something though, and of course to win.
Camping for 75p!
Having bought a walking map of the Sumava National Park, we located a municipal campsite to try first, in the vicinity of Mount Boubin. When we got there we were greeted by a jolly old man suited in short trousers and a hat complete with feather requesting 30 Krone (about 75p) to camp in his little car park. The ‘facilities’ consisted of a tap, a bin and a few huts covering deep pits (some deeper than others, the deeper the better I found) but for 75p you could hardly complain. We ended up staying there 2 nights, albeit a rather cold, damp experience as both nights we were able to make our breath condense on the windows. In a rather lucky window between storm fronts we managed to climb Mt Boubin at 1362m. If you had the energy for a little more, a wooden tower on top took you up above tree line to appreciate amazing views of the forest stretching out in every direction. We spent much of the time trying to catch glimpses of the black woodpecker we could hear, but seldom see for long enough to get a good view. The woods were also full of ring ouzels who were happy to pose for photos so we could identify them later. Our main impression of the area was that of a heavy presence of a large scale logging industry. The valleys were often filled with the sound of distant chain saws, and every few hundred meters along the track, piles of logs lay stacked and sorted waiting to be collected by the huge tractors rumbling through the forest. While patches of the landscape looked more like a scene of devastation rather than national park, it was clear that new trees were also being planted and protected. We didn’t manage to see any deer as we’d hoped, but most of the houses we passed in the area were adorned with antlers, so we knew they must be in there somewhere, they’d perhaps just learnt wisely to keep a safe distance away from humans.
Napoleon Feels the Heat
A border crossing on a bank holiday, are you mad? Yes, your honour, but we didn’t know there was one. After 45 minutes of slowly, stop-starting towards the border, Napoleon became pyrexic. With a fever brewing, he started to gurgle and deliver smoke from the bonnet. This was on a downhill. With the engine turned off, we attempted to free-wheel down. As a new driver – I was about to get some more learning’s. That the brakes don’t work without the hydraulics of the engine, or the foot brake gradually seizes up. So we recklessly did handbrakes all the way to the border. With a temperature well over 100 degrees, Napoleon spluttered into life, nodded his guten tags and gradually cooled down.
Is this normal for a 20 year old to overheat so much? His coolant levels are fine and are regularly checked. Any suggestions are welcome. If in queues now, I tend to ride in neutral and use the gradient where possible.
Is this normal for a 20 year old to overheat so much? His coolant levels are fine and are regularly checked. Any suggestions are welcome. If in queues now, I tend to ride in neutral and use the gradient where possible.
A very long day
11 days after leaving England our gas supplies were running low, but we had taken comfort from internet research assuring us gas exchange was common at most petrol stations across the Czech Republic and that International Campingaz, our chosen fuel, was widely available across Europe. Several petrol stations later we began to have serious doubts. Gas cylinders were indeed exchanged, just not our type. Then one place we got lucky, an English speaking lady was behind us during our linguistic/gesturing attempts to convey our plight and she informed us that the sales assistants were telling us they have never seen campingaz in this country – try Germany! Despite feeling a bit of a step backwards, as our destination for the day was only a few dozen kms from the border we decided this might not be a bad suggestion, of course what we hadn’t reckoned on was the "ferein tag" or bank holiday im Deutschland. This we discovered after several more frustrating hours finding everywhere closed. At dusk came an inspiration and we eventually found a campsite just outside Passau that had gas – hurray! Too late to return to Czech we spent the night back among giant motorhomes, with their satellite dishes and automatic awning and re-crossed the border the next morning.
All the People
Back to the orchard campsite. It is funny to spend four days in Praha, and yet only visit the city twice!! Praha became a pit stop to recharge the batteries and soak up the simple everyday delights of not sight seeing or walking the heels off. We became trusted lodgers with our Campsite Landlady, who insisted on calling Laura –‘Madam’ and leaving us the keys to her kingdom. Although it seems to defeat the purpose of travelling and seeing new sights, and living new experiences, the attractions of the familiar on a journey bespoke with the unfamiliar are all too compelling. Or at least once every so often, a holiday from the holiday is required. So we decorated this orchard with blues, reds, oranges and other colours with our washing. We even managed to perform a late spring clean. I also battled with iTunes!!! Prior to leaving London, I moved my library to the external hard drive, and loaded all our music on board. Disaster struck somehow, when my computer or I inadvertently renamed my hard drive from E to F. So iTunes could not find the music. I tried all sorts of tricks, but none worked. Eventually I reloaded all music folders and then went through all to remove the various duplicates. Perhaps I misspent my time in Praha. I think a lesson I am being learnt is to try and understand more about machines, in order to prevent them controlling me.
I find it hard to leave behind the old ways, the schemes and the little cheats, such as not paying for a fare here and there!! I noticed that few people seemed to have the prebought tickets for the Trams in this gothic city. Despite there being warnings galore about non-uniformed inspectors and the penalty charges there was a paucity of vending machines. At times it would have been a lot easier to break the law and ride for free, feel the exhilaration of getting away with a little cheat. Alas, Praha so beautiful, but so popular with so many. With crowds, it becomes a bit tricky to see all the beauty much remarked upon. I found myself walking as if on the busy streets of Brixton, with hardened elbows and widened shoulders, ready for contact. Oh the hardships of being a tourist. I sympathise with the inhabitants of such places, who have to face this onslaught daily. The Lonely Planet recommends sleeping during the day and visiting the towns architectural delights in the waking hours of the morning! Any takers? It was here that the spectacle of tiny digital camera with massive tripod was glimpsed and amazed at. It seems to defeat the object of having a mini camera if you are wont to use such an unwieldy platform.
Sampled some more of the traditional food of Bohemia, plenty of meat, generally smoked flavours, and the sauerkraut variations and served with breadlike dumplings and lashings of gravy. The pivo is going down a treat, and so cheap.
So, we left the city and headed south. Well, we left and re-entered the city, rode anxiously along narrow streets with a tram tailgating me briefly. Yet again a city seemed to have hypnotized and dazzled our orientation. Still, we managed to glimpse a different side to Praha, than the highly manicured one seen by most.
Briefly watched a Czech version of Irish Dancing. However, they had replaced the traditional dress with one resembling a cheer leader’s. A slightly surreal sight in Vaclavsky Namesti. God bless River Dance.
I find it hard to leave behind the old ways, the schemes and the little cheats, such as not paying for a fare here and there!! I noticed that few people seemed to have the prebought tickets for the Trams in this gothic city. Despite there being warnings galore about non-uniformed inspectors and the penalty charges there was a paucity of vending machines. At times it would have been a lot easier to break the law and ride for free, feel the exhilaration of getting away with a little cheat. Alas, Praha so beautiful, but so popular with so many. With crowds, it becomes a bit tricky to see all the beauty much remarked upon. I found myself walking as if on the busy streets of Brixton, with hardened elbows and widened shoulders, ready for contact. Oh the hardships of being a tourist. I sympathise with the inhabitants of such places, who have to face this onslaught daily. The Lonely Planet recommends sleeping during the day and visiting the towns architectural delights in the waking hours of the morning! Any takers? It was here that the spectacle of tiny digital camera with massive tripod was glimpsed and amazed at. It seems to defeat the object of having a mini camera if you are wont to use such an unwieldy platform.
Sampled some more of the traditional food of Bohemia, plenty of meat, generally smoked flavours, and the sauerkraut variations and served with breadlike dumplings and lashings of gravy. The pivo is going down a treat, and so cheap.
So, we left the city and headed south. Well, we left and re-entered the city, rode anxiously along narrow streets with a tram tailgating me briefly. Yet again a city seemed to have hypnotized and dazzled our orientation. Still, we managed to glimpse a different side to Praha, than the highly manicured one seen by most.
Briefly watched a Czech version of Irish Dancing. However, they had replaced the traditional dress with one resembling a cheer leader’s. A slightly surreal sight in Vaclavsky Namesti. God bless River Dance.
Friday 25 May 2007
going round in a circle
Day 5 saw us heading into the Czech Republic and our first proper border crossing. Having managed to annoy the policemen on 2 accounts – not turning off our engine and not having our headlights on – he took a long hard look at our passports before allowing us through. The first settlement we came to was Hrensko, described in the Lonely Planet as “a cute village of pointy-gabled houses” however, they forgot to mention the rows and rows of tacky souvenir stalls which line the street in front of above mentioned houses. This pretty much totally obscures the picturesque view and certainly denies the village any cuteness. Fortunately this was not our final destination and so after a very brief stop to purchase a hiking map we turned off the main road and headed into the hills.
Our plan was to stay at a camp site in Mezni Louka, which we found with relative ease. What took a little longer to work out was that it was shut until the end of May. The tell-tale signs of desertion should perhaps have given it away, but the equally obvious sign informing new arrivals the reception closed over lunch time, led us into a false sense of security that someone would indeed return shortly to let us in. 45 minutes later, armed with Sophie’s last minute borrowed German dictionary, we were able to establish the reality of the situation. With our new map we then located another campsite nearby and started off again. A large ‘OPEN’ sign greeted us this time, but unfortunately that was all that greeted us. With no-one to be found and no sign of any other campers, we were forced to head for campsite number 3.
We finally located signs of life just outside the village of Jetrichovice in what turned out to be the best of the 3 sites. In pigeon German on both sides we booked ourselves in for little more than £5 a night including electric hook-up. Then as we rolled across to our stop the first spots of rain began to fall, and there began a tremendous thunderstorm that circled our position for the next 12 hours or so.
In a brief brighter let-up we took a turn around the small site and discovered we were surrounded by large sandstone rock formations and dense pine forests.
Setting up the electricity was not quite as straight forward this time. With ‘no earth’ (and therefore no power) being reported on our polarity tester, a friendly neighbour came to our assistance. With various testing equipment, beyond the realms of our own knowledge, he informed us that Napoleon had got his wires crossed and advised us to try re-wiring him! Our inevitable hesitancy brought on the alternative suggestion of just running off his adaptor which we gratefully accepted. [We were also pleased to find that we had no trouble hooking up in Prague, albeit with the plug upside down – to any electricians reading this we would value you opinion, but so far it seems to be working].
The next day was one of cycling, walking and being punted. There was a nice sounding circular walk starting in Hrensko which we were able to pick up half way round in Mezni Louka. The 15km uphill cycle (push bike up hill) to Mezni Louka was not my favourite part of the day, but I did enjoy the return journey (except for the fading light bit). The walk was divided into 2 distinct sections, with very impressive clear markings along the whole route. After a few km descent into a dark pine forest, with the now familiar sheer rock faces along each side of the narrow valley we came to the rive Strzi. Following walkways rather precariously clinging to the rocks along the river’s edge we eventually came to an apparently impassable section where the only way through the deep gorge is by boat. The cynic in me also noted the clever opportunity to charge tourists for the pleasure of passing. Either way, being low season, after a rather long wait just in case there were any other walkers needing their pockets relieved of some loose change, we were exclusively punted down the river.
Some more river side walking took us past a man with a shed demanding a second payment (reason slightly unclear) and still further on brought us to another impassable section and another boat trip. Upon reaching the throngs of Hrensko we (and our bellies) were pleased to find a local café still serving food. After a few minutes gazing at the incomprehensible menu and a sense this was going to be rather like a lucky dip, a waitress noticed our phrase book and brought us menus translated into some form of English. It’s amazing how much more appetising food sounds when you know what it is! We both opted to try some of the local cuisine (£2 each) and were quite satisfied with our respective meat dishes served with bread like dumplings and creamed spinach.
A little too full of carbohydrates we then headed back up into the hills on a seemingly never ending ascent up to Pravcicka Brana, reputedly one of the largest natural arches in Europe. A magnificent sight, yes, but again you pay for the privilege (what a cheap skate misery I sound!). Now 6pm we were rather against the clock so the last section of the walk was completed in a steadily determined style. Mostly through closely wooded and very steep paths. The heavily eroded sandstone rock faces towered above us to often beyond where the eye could see, and the dark valley floor somewhere below our feet, again obscured from view most of the time. The sandy path wound round the rock formations covering a distance at least 3 times that which the crow would fly. We eventually arrived back in Mezni Louka and collected our bikes.
Sausages (again – think we’re turning into sausages) rounded off a tiring but enjoyable day, as we made plans to head down towards the capital.
Our plan was to stay at a camp site in Mezni Louka, which we found with relative ease. What took a little longer to work out was that it was shut until the end of May. The tell-tale signs of desertion should perhaps have given it away, but the equally obvious sign informing new arrivals the reception closed over lunch time, led us into a false sense of security that someone would indeed return shortly to let us in. 45 minutes later, armed with Sophie’s last minute borrowed German dictionary, we were able to establish the reality of the situation. With our new map we then located another campsite nearby and started off again. A large ‘OPEN’ sign greeted us this time, but unfortunately that was all that greeted us. With no-one to be found and no sign of any other campers, we were forced to head for campsite number 3.
We finally located signs of life just outside the village of Jetrichovice in what turned out to be the best of the 3 sites. In pigeon German on both sides we booked ourselves in for little more than £5 a night including electric hook-up. Then as we rolled across to our stop the first spots of rain began to fall, and there began a tremendous thunderstorm that circled our position for the next 12 hours or so.
In a brief brighter let-up we took a turn around the small site and discovered we were surrounded by large sandstone rock formations and dense pine forests.
Setting up the electricity was not quite as straight forward this time. With ‘no earth’ (and therefore no power) being reported on our polarity tester, a friendly neighbour came to our assistance. With various testing equipment, beyond the realms of our own knowledge, he informed us that Napoleon had got his wires crossed and advised us to try re-wiring him! Our inevitable hesitancy brought on the alternative suggestion of just running off his adaptor which we gratefully accepted. [We were also pleased to find that we had no trouble hooking up in Prague, albeit with the plug upside down – to any electricians reading this we would value you opinion, but so far it seems to be working].
The next day was one of cycling, walking and being punted. There was a nice sounding circular walk starting in Hrensko which we were able to pick up half way round in Mezni Louka. The 15km uphill cycle (push bike up hill) to Mezni Louka was not my favourite part of the day, but I did enjoy the return journey (except for the fading light bit). The walk was divided into 2 distinct sections, with very impressive clear markings along the whole route. After a few km descent into a dark pine forest, with the now familiar sheer rock faces along each side of the narrow valley we came to the rive Strzi. Following walkways rather precariously clinging to the rocks along the river’s edge we eventually came to an apparently impassable section where the only way through the deep gorge is by boat. The cynic in me also noted the clever opportunity to charge tourists for the pleasure of passing. Either way, being low season, after a rather long wait just in case there were any other walkers needing their pockets relieved of some loose change, we were exclusively punted down the river.
Some more river side walking took us past a man with a shed demanding a second payment (reason slightly unclear) and still further on brought us to another impassable section and another boat trip. Upon reaching the throngs of Hrensko we (and our bellies) were pleased to find a local café still serving food. After a few minutes gazing at the incomprehensible menu and a sense this was going to be rather like a lucky dip, a waitress noticed our phrase book and brought us menus translated into some form of English. It’s amazing how much more appetising food sounds when you know what it is! We both opted to try some of the local cuisine (£2 each) and were quite satisfied with our respective meat dishes served with bread like dumplings and creamed spinach.
A little too full of carbohydrates we then headed back up into the hills on a seemingly never ending ascent up to Pravcicka Brana, reputedly one of the largest natural arches in Europe. A magnificent sight, yes, but again you pay for the privilege (what a cheap skate misery I sound!). Now 6pm we were rather against the clock so the last section of the walk was completed in a steadily determined style. Mostly through closely wooded and very steep paths. The heavily eroded sandstone rock faces towered above us to often beyond where the eye could see, and the dark valley floor somewhere below our feet, again obscured from view most of the time. The sandy path wound round the rock formations covering a distance at least 3 times that which the crow would fly. We eventually arrived back in Mezni Louka and collected our bikes.
Sausages (again – think we’re turning into sausages) rounded off a tiring but enjoyable day, as we made plans to head down towards the capital.
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