Day 32 - Mohács - 56 miles
With the slower pace of the last few days riding with Ivan and Uma and my reserve battery packs now nearly out of juice, I decided to set off on my own to knock out a big day of riding as quickly as possible to a guest house for the night to recharge. I left them around 9am to make a dash for the Serbian border, country 5. It was like Uma knew I was splitting away from them both and followed me all the way down the street, ignoring calls from Ivan to come back.
Somehow I'd completely forgotten that Serbia isn't part of the EU until late last night. This meant I'd have no mobile data from here until Belgrade so mapping would be tricky and also it made this the first 'proper' border crossing of the trip. No jokes with the border control this time around, just 12ft barbed wire fences and armed police watching my every move.
The riding along the EV6 was pretty identical in Serbia tracking along the banks of the Danube with almost no traffic. The only real difference was the introduction of huge scale beehives dotted every few hundred metres along the path
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I made it to Apatin before 4pm and checked into my guest house. For a whole 2 bed holiday home with private courtyard I paid €15, insane considering I was paying €25 for a campsite in Austria just a few weeks back. The other big shock in Serbia was the smoking laws, at a local seafood restaurant I was met by a sea of burly men all smoking cigarettes whilst eating their dinner. Even the waiter was chonging a cig as he took my order. The only thing stranger about this restaurant experience was the slap of ground beef I was served after ordering the 'chef's burger'
I was surprised to hear from Ivan just before 7pm that he and Uma had also made it to Apatin. They'd been riding 30-40km days on average before we'd met and so this was a monster effort from them both. I invited them to take a bed at my house for the night rather than camping again. I think this was Ivan's first bed in more than a month.
Day 33 - Apatin - 63 miles
With another hot day coming, I woke up early to get out and moving as soon as possible. This plan to get out quick was first thwarted by the surprise puppy I found in our courtyard, we played with the pup for 30 minutes and watched Uma freak out at the site of such a tiny counterpart. I think half of Uma's worry was stemming from the fact that Ivan was immediately planning to take this puppy with him on his journey and growing his clan to 3 (turned out it was the neighbors dog).
Ivan was planning to stay another day in Atapin and so just as I was about ready to get going, I gave the bike a quick once over with the tried and tested wiggle test. My rear cassette had a couple of mm play away from the hub which, for reference, shouldn't be able to be moved at all. This could be a massive problem. I didn't have the tools needed to take the cassette off and to make matters worse as I tried to remove my wheel I partially rounded the hex bolt which could make for an even bigger problem that isn't easily fixed. Schrodingers bike comes to mind here, if you don't go looking then the bike is always both in full working order and about to kill you, but better you don't know.
I figured my best bet was to ride to the nearest bike shop which happened to be 15 miles the way I came in Sombor, the opposite direction to Belgrade. With no food or water in the system I sprinted non stop until I got to the first shop. I mimed my way through the problem and gave extra effort into explaining that he shouldn't just try to rip the thru axle out as it'll round the bolt... He ignored me and made it worse, then said 'kaput' and walked off.
At this point I was kaput. I thought the bike could possibly need new specific parts that would take weeks to arrive and I needed to be in Belgrade in just a few more days to meet my brother. I've never felt adrenaline and stress like this before and was definitely a new lowest point. Thankfully Milos in the Sportofis shop round the corner dropped everything he was doing when he saw the state I was in. He sorted the original problem, tuned my brakes and gears and gave me route advice before insisting he wouldn't take any money from me and sent me on my way. Never have I ever teared up whilst shaking the oil covered hand of a bike mechanic.
Now midday and 15 miles behind where I started this morning I decided to cut out the scenic route and draw a straight line across the country to Novi Sad. I booked a cheap room and blasted it on the sketchiest roads I've ever cycled on. Cars were passing me with less than a foot to spare whilst going well above the speed limit. I can safely say that Serbian drivers have been the worst of the trip so far, which I'd been told by the Serbian locals too, so I really don't feel bad saying it. I crashed into my apartment at Novi Sad for an air conditioned early night.
Day 34 - Novi Sad - 28 miles
I got up early and left Novi Sad without really seeing any of it. I've since been told by lots of other travelers that it's a real highlight, but there's truly nothing worse than trying to ride through a busy city with 4 full pannier bags on your bike, narrowly squeezing through traffic at every red light. At least I got to ride across a major bridge, one of my lamest pleasures.
The Eurovelo 6 takes a more scenic route winding up and over the mountain at a slower pace but would have meant another 20 miles of riding. I opted to join the crazy traffic that cut straight up and over on a busy A road. I should say I'm not the only one dumb enough to think this way, as halfway up the climb I met Mick and Lisa, a bicycle touring couple from Australia who were also heading to Istanbul. We joked about the ridiculousness of it all, pushed on the final stint to the top and shared lunch in front of the striking Banstol orthadox church. It was really great to meet these two and their fun loving attitude wore off on me big time.
Over the mountain I set a route for Cyclo camp Vinograd, a small homestead / campsite aimed at cycle tourists nestled in between endless vineyards. Run by Julio from Argentina and Alexandra from Serbia, I was treated to home brew wine and fresh empanadas whilst they gave me a local's overview of Serbian politics. In the evening another cycle tourist rolled in, Andre. From Germany he's planning to cycle around the world in a similar direction to me so we agreed to meet up to ride together through some of the more difficult sections on the horizon. It's always really nice getting to speak to someone who's in the exact same situation as you, as they instantly can relate to the intense stress and adrenaline of the highs and lows. We traded our funniest and scariest stories of the trip so far as we cooked our identical tomato pasta that we'd both been eating almost every day now for weeks.
Day 35 - Vinograd - 13 miles
I had two days until my brother Josh arrived in Belgrade, so to kill time I stuck around for another day at the campsite. Alexandra suggested I rode over the peaks behind the camp into Stari Slankamen, a small but historically important town in Serbia. The ride up and over was strange, firstly because I was riding without any luggage on the bike for the first time in a month, which I can only compare to trying to walk when drunk. It was also odd how 90% of the way up the mountain, the roads turned from rough dirt tracks and rubble to the most pristine gated community with fresh tarmac and right angles everywhere. This is where a few members of the current long-standing government have some second homes, which was not a surprise to the locals I spoke to.
Stari Slankamen was the site of a pivotal battle in the 1600s as a last stronghold of the Ottoman empire against an imperial army. It's really hard to imagine that from this modern day sleepy fishing town with a handful of restaurants and shops.
I pitched up on the side of the Danube at a fish restaurant where I drank too much beer (€1 pints) and ate carp for the first and probably last time of my life.
Halfway through my third pint I got a text from Alexandria telling me not to leave the restaurant as there was a huge storm rolling west. She'd been told by her friend in Belgrade that they had massive hail stones and gail force winds, not the kind of weather you want to ride 6 miles back to camp over a mountain after drinking over a litre of beer.
The storm came in out of nowhere and within a minute everyone who had been sitting with me on the terrace had now retreated deep inside the restaurant where they watched the dumb Englishman taking photos of a river whilst getting pelted by rain. I've seen a lot of big storms this trip and it still never gets old for me. After an hour it died down which also gave me a chance to sober up before riding back to camp. It was a fun semi-rest day.
Days 36-38 - Belgrade - Rest
The 30 miles east from Vinograd to Belgrade were flat and fast, not really anything of note here except for the damage of yesterday's storm. The outskirts of Belgrade were very brutalist, massive cut and paste highrise flats made totally of concrete covered in air con units.
Our Airbnb was slap bang in the center of the city so the last few miles were a bit of a slog, but I made it in early enough that I had 4 hours to go through all of the same laundry list of cleaning, charging, repairing and resorting all of my gear before Josh arrived that evening. It felt great to finally get on top of all of my gear, as stuff was starting to smell pretty funky and I was able to get the whole bike into the shower for it's first real deep clean of the trip.
Even though I'd seen Nat just a week earlier, it had already felt like a month of riding had passed since, so this visit was so needed. Apart from starting and then bailing early on a walking tour, we really just hung out for 3 days at our apartment and the bars and cafes surrounding. Thanks Josh, it meant a lot.
Day 39 - Belgrade - 61 miles
Just like my last visit, saying goodbye was tough. We went for a last supper of French toast breakfast, espresso, lemonade and a pint. Not the most nutritious final meal but it was convenient. I left Josh at the cafe just before midday as I knew that getting out of Belgrade was going to be a slog. Another teary hug and I was out of there, leaving Josh to finally do some sightseeing before his flight.
I normally like to get the majority of my miles on before midday, so I really felt on the back foot here and pushed on pretty much non stop the whole day. Once out of the city I was back to following the Danube river and the EV6 route, but at some point I must have accidentally turned off the trail and found myself riding a 4 lane motorway with 80mph traffic. I risked it for 30 minutes or so being swept along at an insane speed before turning off to see sense. I found my way back to the EV6 route but it was more of a dirt track at this point. A little slower for sure but way more relaxed.
Andre, the German round the world cyclist I met a few days prior to Belgrade, had shared his route with me now that he was a few days ahead. There was a short ferry crossing at Stara Palanka that he'd suggested I take to save a lot of time on winding round the upcoming bends. I'd been pushing myself to make it to the port where I'd cross over and then find camp immediately after. When I got to the port however, it was clear there was no boat due anytime soon. Turns out that this ferry shuttle runs every 2 and a half hours. I'd missed the last by 20 minutes and by the time the next came it would be dark.
Rather than waiting up for the ferry I grabbed a room at possiblity the strangest hotel in town where for €5 I had a private room with 5 beds, breakfast and an owner who loved to stare.
Day 40 - Stara Planka - 62 miles
I woke up for breakfast at 6:45 which had been prepared just for me as the only guest in the hotel. A full plate of tomatoes and cheese and another of meat, surprisingly good.
The ferry took us across the river, hugging the border with Romania but not quite crossing. Although we were still in Serbia, it felt like a different country arriving in Ram. A huge castle covered in cannons overlooked a much greener and quieter version of the country I'd been in for a week now. The other major difference was the dogs. Newborn puppies, sleepy town strays and aggressive sprinters were everywhere. In my first few hours after leaving the boat they outnumbered humans I saw 2 to 1 at least.
I planned to ride to a campsite I'd found on Google maps in Donji Milanovac, about 60 miles away and so needed to move at a pretty good pace. After 15 miles, I finally came across the first town with a grocery shop so I could fuel up for the day. Whilst I was stood outside ramming my bananas into my bags I heard a familiar, warm Australian 'Fuck off'. Mick who I'd met nearly a week prior on top of a mountain was now staring at me laughing, soon followed by Lisa. Just like the last time we met, their infectiously happy way of looking at things rubbed off on me and it gave me the boost I needed. We traded route suggestions from here to Istanbul and parted ways but have stayed in touch since. Thanks guys - you helped me more than you could know.
I rode through the last miles of the day easily enjoying the quiet roads to myself, passing tunnels, ciff edged coastline and a fortress.
The camp that I'd found on Google turned out to not be a camp at all. I'm still not really sure what it is, but the lady who put her American flag jean shorts back on to greet me gladly took my money to let me sleep in her riverside garden. I set up my tent looking out across the Danube at the huge climb I had waiting for me the next morning. The only company was the resident dog that lived there who quickly took a shining to me, barely letting me cook. I'll call him Bert for the purposes of this post.
I got to bed feeling accomplished and fell asleep early in preparation for what was going to be a very difficult start to the next day but was shocked awake by the sound of a pack of wild dogs at the border of the property. By this point the owners had left as this wasn't their main residence so I had no back up as I listened to the pack get closer. At least two of them circled my tent no doubt smelling the buffet of breakfast foods taking up the other half of my 2 man tent/human burrito. Out of nowhere another dog that I can only assume was Bert came to my rescue in fighting off the wild dogs just feet from my now incredibly sweaty head. I remember hearing the sounds morph from aggressive barking to full contact MMA, followed by the sharp wails of an injured dog that I assumed was bitten. Too terrified to look outside I laid back holding my tiny knife waiting for the sounds to stop. Eventually I fell back into the lightest form of sleep, waiting for the next sound.
This was definitely the worst night of the trip so far. Happy to say that Bert was laying outside my tent in the morning and looked tired but okay, thanks buddy.