BULGARIA AND ROMANIA

BULGARIA AND ROMANIA

I am writing this with some difficulty on a very bumpy train from Kiev to Moscow. We are not cycling even though we have enough time because we are determined to give Bridget’s knee ample opportunity to get better. Having made the mistake of getting back on the bikes too quickly when she hurt it while cycling in Bulgaria we are not making the same mistake twice. We think it isn’t trip ending serious but with Korea, Japan and Vietnam to come we don’t want to take any chances. It helps that we are deep down cowards who aren’t too upset to miss out on cycling through Russia and our experience through the Ukraine where it was dull, windy and hilly in the worst kind of rolling hills way made us think we may not be missing out on too much.

We crossed the border from Greece to Bulgaria quite late the day and having listened too sincerely to too many people in Greece who told us that Bulgaria was full of bad people and that we should be really careful we decided to try make it to the first big town Sandanksi and find the camp site the map told us was there. Of course it was a few kilometres too many and there was no camp site, that we could find anyway, so we booked into a reasonable and not too expensive hotel who allowed us to bring the bikes inside and eat sweets from the jar on reception. Not much to mention of note about Sandanksi other than it’s grotty exterior wasn’t entirely indicative of the town centre and that the hotel belied the general down trodden feel of the place.

Our second day in Bulgaria was not a good day. We were having a pretty good ride through really pretty scenery but were toiling against the wind again and travelling up hill. Bridget was on fine form and bombing up the hills in great spirits. But then we paid for the very long and tiring day previously and whether because of the extra effort required in the wind and up the hills or simply ill luck her knee went again. We were fortunate that we were able to make it to a nearby town which though small and more run down that Sandanski did actually have a quite decent hotel. She just about made it but that was to be the last time we cycled for more than a week as we gave her knee time to recover. The next day Bridget managed a painful 20 kms or so to a town with a train station where we caught a train to Sofia and with the help of some friends back home via text managed to get ourselves booked into a fantastic hostel.

The hotel we stayed in the night Bridget’s knee went caput was in hindsight quite interesting. It didn’t have very many rooms and was run by about 5 women it seemed. We were the only couple staying, all the other guests were men. Our room we very nice with a huge and comfortable bed but it is the first hotel I’ve been in with a huge mirror on the ceiling above the bed. Then later Bridget read that prostitution is legal in Bulgaria and that many men travel across the border from Greece to partake in the local pleasures. When we put all this together we wondered just what kind of establishment we had been staying in. It wasn’t how I would have pictured a brothel – it was extremely clean and modern and the staff were kind and friendly and again let us bring our bikes inside and lock them to a radiator in the lobby but I do think that if ever asked at a dinner party or during a game of truth whether we have ever been in a brothel we can both answer in the affirmative.

The next day we were both really down but were relieved when we made it without too much difficulty to Sofia and to Hostel Mostel. The hostel was brilliant and without doubt the best thing about Sofia. We stayed there three days enjoying our time in the hostel but not taking to Sofia. We stayed long enough to find somewhere to couchsurf in Bucharest and then booked our train. Although all our train journeys have so far been successful (“touch wood” – I write this on the way to Russia and have yet to run the gauntlet of the border, still very concerned there may be some issue with the visa and mentally preparing myself to pay my first ever bribe) they have not been easy. It is far easier and simpler to cycle than to lug bikes on and off trains. And then there is the issue of trying to explain to the ticket office that you have bicycles and want tickets if they are required. Of course what the ticket office tells you and what the ticket inspector or guard on the train tells you can be two entirely different things. We didn’t need a ticket for our bikes on the train between Sofia and Bucharest – not according to the ticket office, the excess baggage department at Sofia train station, the guard who guided us to the right carriage and our seats, nor the ticket inspector who checked our tickets just before we left or the one who checked them a few hours later.

But according to the new inspector who checked our tickets a couple of hours before crossing the border we should have bought tickets at the station. They should have cost us four lev but he couldn’t issue them at that price. On the train they would cost 21 lev. If we could read Bulgarian we could read it in his considerable thick rules and regulations manual. This was a problem. As we were leaving Bulgaria with absolutely not intention of ever returning we had spent all of our money and had just one crumpled 5 lev note left. We tried to explain he was the first person in a long list to believe we needed a ticket. We had honestly and openly tried we told him to buy a ticket but at every turn had been told it was not necessary. What could we have done. How could we have bought a ticket if no one was prepared to sell us one. It is in my book he repeated, it is in Bulgarian but trust me it says so in here. Well we only have 5 lev will that not do? No you will have to get off at the next`station and go to the ticket office and buy one there. Something I duly tried to do, only to be told that on international trains it wasn’t necessary as we had a large baggage allowance that covered bicycles – but the ticket inspector says … lots of loud Bulgarian and a phone call later and still the same answer no ticket required. So I went back to the train thinking how I would explain this to the man with the Bulgarian rules and regulation handbook only to find that he was no longer on the train and another inspector had taken over who didn’t give our bikes (which were parked very neatly and not in anyone’s way) a second glance. How we have come to love Eastern European bureaucracy and we’re not even in Russia yet.

So it was that we happily left Bulgaria and moved on to Romania and Bucharest where we couchsurfed with Frank and Tia. Frank is Irish and Tia Romanian and both work on the Internet and have a lovely St Bernard who’s name I never came to grips with but which I think means Little Bear.

She was due to be spayed the day after we arrived so Bridget at least felt she could be useful if only in a comforting I am sure everything will be ok kind of way. Of course she had to work hard not to express too much concern when she heard how Romanian vets do things but things went well and Little Bear came home safely and was in the end fine. We helped carry her up 4 flights of stairs in a blanket – and we both wondered how appropriate a dog a St Bernard is for a one bed roomed flat in the middle of a city but she was a gorgeous natured dog who gave us some much needed pet therapy though she also made us pine even more for our own dogs Megan and Pateley and brought about some photo therapy on the lap top and questions such as why we missed the dogs more than our friends and family!

There’s not much to say about Bucharest other than it is a step up from Sofia and that we had a pleasant stay with Frank and Tia and their St Bernard. We soon moved on though, again by train, again to give Bridget’s knee a rest, this time to Brasov, a chocolate box town in the Transylvanian mountains.

An opportune chat with a kindly American at the station pointed us in the direction of an excellent hostel where we met some friendly people – namely an Australian teacher (Jacquie) who had been working in Liverpool but was about to move to Ireland and was working as a supply teacher so she could bit by bit travel around the world. She was trying very hard she said not to meet any nice men as potential husbands tended to tie one down to one place; comments which brought a glint of understanding (and longing perhaps?) to Bridget’s eyes.

We spent a very enjoyable and restful few days in Brasov, the highlight of which was a visit to Sinaia and the summer palace of the former King. It was spectacular, mainly for the intricate wooden interior which had been carved in Germany I think and transported to the palace around the turn of the century.

One aspect I found particularly interesting was that during the guided tour there was very little if any mention of the communist era and the impact it had had on the history of the Royal Family or the country. It was all glossed over, whether through embarrassment or recent history simply being to close for comfort I am unsure.

After a rest in Brasov in was back on the bikes and though at the time it felt fantastic in hindsight it may have been a little too soon as Bridget’s knee was again to fail her as we neared Kiev forcing a month’s rest and the real possibility that we would have to freight the bikes home and continue on with rucksacks. (I am writing this on the Trans Siberian Express. We are on our way to Vladivostok and then via boat to South Korea where we will again try to cycle. If B’s knee lets her down again we have decided we won’t try to fight the situation and risk long term damage. A difficult decision and after a month’s rest this time we hope it doesn't come to that but our minds are now made up).

We had a lovely cycle ride from Brasov to the Ukrainian border – the first day was nothing special with appalling roads and unpleasant weather but after that we travelled through some stunning scenery,mountains, deep gorges and beautiful open and rolling hills.

We cycled for four days and rested for a day in Suceava at yet another lovely and far from busy hostel where we had the room to ourselves. We were now within a day’s cycle of Ukraine which one website had informed us was not flat and not boring. Well it definitely wasn’t flat but the route we had chosen WAS distinctly boring and unfortunately extremely windy. The next five days was really tough and sadly ended with a Bridget’s knee failing her more seriously than before, a train to Kiev and then another train to Moscow.