{"id":7089,"date":"2009-04-28T20:01:22","date_gmt":"2009-04-29T00:01:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.worldbiking.info\/wordpress\/?p=7089"},"modified":"2017-01-15T19:57:43","modified_gmt":"2017-01-16T00:57:43","slug":"biking-the-balkans","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.worldbiking.info\/wordpress\/2009\/04\/biking-the-balkans\/","title":{"rendered":"Biking the Balkans"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Cycling in Bulgaria, Serbia, Kosovo, Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia and Bosnia<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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28 April\u00a0 2009 \u00a0Total kilometers cycled: 53,785<\/p>\n

Four weeks, eight countries...whew. \u00a0Our whirlwind tour of the Balkans sounds more like a Japanese package tour than two travelers cycling at their leisure. \u00a0It's frustrating just to skim the surface of this region but we must be back by mid-May, says Eric. \u00a0He's reserved 'couches' for us along the way and we must keep to the schedule (16 years in Germany has left its mark). \u00a0Here's a quick rundown of where we've been and what we've seen.<\/p>\n

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Bulgaria wasn't what we expected. \u00a0It now being a member of the EU we were awaiting pristine highways and modern towns. \u00a0Bustling cities full of young professionals rushing off to important meetings or relaxing in trendy cafes. \u00a0In reality\u00a0 Bulgaria appeared to be more on par with Africa than Western Europe. \u00a0Piles of rotting liter lined the highways and as we passed the Roma settlements (Gypsies for the non-politically correct) dirty-faced kids demanded money and welcomed us with a few low-flying<\/div>\n
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stones when no handouts were forthcoming. \u00a0Villages appeared deserted and factories lay empty, their windows broken or boarded up. \u00a0The cafes were filled with tired-looking men with deeply lined faces and bulbous red noses leaning over a beer and puffing away on cigarettes. \u00a0The cities were ringed with gray tower blocks and vacant buildings in business districts told of tough economic times. \u00a0Low clouds and drizzle added to the depressing ambiance. <\/p>\n

Thankfully, the locals, albeit a bit gruff at first,\u00a0were kind-hearted and helpful. \u00a0On more than one occasion we were allowed to pitch the tent on the grounds of a village church. \u00a0<\/p><\/div>\n

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One Sunday morning we were still slurping our porridge and relishing the last sip of coffee when the parishioners began to arrive. \u00a0Eighty must have been the average age, most were women and they were all dressed in black, many carrying spring flowers with which to decorate the church. \u00a0They eyed us a bit suspiciously, but broke into smiles when we greeted them with a cheery, 'Dobar Den'.<\/div>\n
We don't want to make any enemies here, and in all fairness riding along the busy main highway, we didn't see the best side of\u00a0 Bulgaria. \u00a0We did enjoy Plovdiv's Old Town which rivals that of any Western European city in terms of beauty and atmosphere and, more importantly, the ice cream in Bulgaria is really quite tasty. \u00a0Our last image of Bulgaria was of a backyard butcher carving up cows, dogs howling and salivating in the distance.<\/p>\n

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Serbia struck as a clean, orderly place with picturesque villages where old Ladas and Zastavas from communist times ply the cobbled streets. \u00a0Older people spoke of the 'good old days' when Yugoslavia was a nation more prosperous than Germany (East or West? \u00a0I never had the courage to ask.) \u00a0Others complained of travel restrictions and the humiliation of neighboring Bulgaria--a country they once looked down upon for being so backwards--being admitted to the EU. \u00a0<\/div>\n
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We were often greeted with great fanfare and it was obvious that foreign visitors on bicycles are rare. \u00a0Shopkeepers presented us with shiny red apples, a journalist from Radio Free Europe interviewed us and everybody seemed to be curious about our cycling adventure. \u00a0Not quite the instant star status one achieves in Africa, but we did cause quite a stir in some small villages.<\/p>\n

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Kosovo seems to be getting itself back on its feet with help from a plethora of UN,\u00a0 EU and various other international aid agencies. \u00a0Villagers complain that there are no jobs and everyone is just getting by, yet a quick glance around and you see big houses, fancy cars and hotels, cafes and restaurants lining the highways. \u00a0It's all being built with money from abroad, we're told.<\/p>\n

Mountainous Macedonia was quite simply beautiful. \u00a0A place of calm cool nature peppered with well-preserved churches and orthodox monasteries. \u00a0We loved cycling through the lush green countryside, but could have done without the daily downpours. \u00a0Next time we'll be sure to find space for rain pants among our 35 kilos (each!) of luggage.<\/p>\n

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After Macedonia, our next country was Albania, where there didn't seem to be much in terms of work taking place.<\/div>\n
In some out-of-the- way villages we saw grandmothers and grandfathers trudging off to the fields with farm implements similar to those my own grandfather probably used when he was working the land back in South Dakota in the 1930s. \u00a0In the towns most men appeared to be idling in cafes or revving the engines of their Mercedes. \u00a0Some I saw entering seedy gambling joints. \u00a0Most people appeared neither particularly poor, nor particularly<\/div>\n
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industrious. \u00a0The parallel economy is thriving, I'm told, and the first thing many rural Albanians did after the communist regime collapsed was plant marijuana destined for the Western European market. \u00a0In Tirana, there are aid agencies galore all hoping to sort out the post-communist chaos in Europe's poorest country.<\/p>\n

But it was really Montenegro that we fell in love with. \u00a0This tiny country has mounted a full-scale advertising campaign on CNN and BBC World to get the word out about all it's got to offer. \u00a0The images on TV (and our photos) don't do justice to the stunning landscape. \u00a0We tortured ourselves climbing up an impossibly steep track where the only traffic was a sweet old lady out herding her sheep and then wound\u00a0around the shores of Lake Shkodra, the largest in the Balkans. \u00a0One evening as it started getting dark we spotted a small \"\"\"\"<\/div>\n

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farmhouse nestled into a curve in the road with a spectacular view out over the lake. We knocked and got no answer and then called out 'Hello, hello. \u00a0Anybody home?' \u00a0 Finally, Eric trotted off through mounds of goat droppings and made his way to the red-roofed barn where he gave our would-be host quite a fright. \u00a0Not many people wandering around the lonely backroads of Montenegro, I guess. \u00a0Our big, burly farmer was a friendly one and immediately agreed to let us camp. \u00a0He'd spent 40 years at sea, and had just returned to his homeland to help rebuild his country. \u00a0'Nobody in Montenegro wants to work,' he complained. \u00a0'I've got to hire Albanians and Bulgarians--they're hungry, they'll do an honest day's work.' <\/p>\n

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Once we hit the Adriatic coast at Kotor (still in Montenegro) we were passed by a steady stream of\u00a0 European vacationers in caravan campers and leather-clad motorcyclists out for a ride through the countryside. In the touristy towns we were surrounded by retirees in sturdy shoes and wide-brimmed hats (never mind that it's cloudy) raving about the beautiful scenery and rushing to get back on the tour bus within the allotted 10 minutes of 'free-time' set aside for wandering around alone. \u00a0They are a strange species who stand slack-jawed and glassy-eyed as the guide babbles away about ancient history and then switch into animated mode once they're set free. \u00a0<\/p>\n

\"\"Then it was on to Croatia and 'the pearl of the Adriatic', stunning Dubrovnik, currently a hotspot on the tourist trail that sees some 17,000 visitors daily in the high season. \u00a0Ugh. \u00a0Even in April, tourists far outnumber the locals as one strolls the marble streets of the historic center. After we'd had enough of exploring the baroque churches, gazing out over the sea and checking out the all the spots marked as 'war damaged' we pedaled through the centuries-old city gate and\u00a0began thinking about were me might sleep for the night. \u00a0'The Solitudo \"\"<\/div>\n

campsite, at almost $30 a night, seemed a bit steep for a patch of grass and a hot shower, so we pushed on until dusk on the busy coastal road watching the changing light on the shimmering turquoise waters below. With almost every inch of the coast covered in hotels and holiday homes, wild camping hardly seemed feasible. \u00a0With a rising sense of worry, we turned off the main highway. \u00a0<\/div>\n
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We were in a\u00a0little enclave of second homes and rental units and in front of every building was a sign proclaiming 'sobe, zimmer, rooms'. \u00a0An older man was still puttering around in his garden despite the failing light and I urged Eric to approach him with our problem.\u00a0 I'm always embarrassed to ask for help and have convinced Eric that it's a 'man's duty' to look after his wife. \u00a0I never like to listen in on the conversations lest someone becomes indignant at our request and points to a hotel down the street. \u00a0Eric came back smiling so I knew we'd found a place to spend the night. \u00a0Our gardener and savior was a retiree from Sarajevo who spoke German and insisted his neighbor wouldn't if we camped on his covered veranda. \u00a0'A very good spot,' he said. \u00a0'Might rain--this way you won't get too wet.' \u00a0He was a kindly gentleman a later brought us big jugs of water for cooking and cleaning. \u00a0We spent a\u00a0peaceful night squatting and woke feeling refreshed. \u00a0Much better than those horrible mega-campsites that dot the Mediterranean where blaring music from the in-camp disco keeps one awake until daybreak.<\/p>\n

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Next, we made a detour into Bosnia to visit Mostar and its famed Stari Most (Old Bridge). \u00a0When we arrived, tourists were thronged around the ancient bridge and all eyes were fixed on the muscle-bound boy in a skimpy Speedo who was preparing to plunge into the river 21 meters below. \u00a0A young assistant was busy passing the hat ensuring the courageous young man's efforts were worthwhile. \u00a0The bridge and the core of the Old Town were rebuilt following severe war damage, but throughout the rest of the city there are still plenty of bullet-ridden buildings and bombed-out houses. \u00a0Reminded me a bit of Beirut.<\/p>\n

The Balkans don't attract just retirees on package tours, there are also loads of cyclists pedaling around these parts. \u00a0In Bulgaria, we met a French couple who are kayaking and cycling through Southern Europe and Scandinavia and a Belgian guy biking through Europe on his own. \u00a0In a driving rain in Macedonia we encountered another Belgian guy cycling around the Balkans. \u00a0We crossed paths with a young Basque guy (not Spanish, Basque!)cycling towards Athens. \u00a0<\/p><\/div>\n

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In Montenegro, we flagged down an energetic young German cycling through the region. \u00a0Just outside of Dubrovnik one Dr.Siegfried Wiesenhofer from Austria was huffing and puffing his way up a steep hill. \u00a0And finally we met up with Stefano from Italy, decked out in full cycling gear like a Tour de France racer and equipped with shiny new bags that he didn't yet know how to close properly. \u00a0From his bar bag he proudly produced a laminated photo of the Virgin Mary. \u00a0We've met as many cyclists in a month as in two years of travel in Africa.<\/p>\n

As you can probably imagine, the bikes and equipment are showing signs of wear and tear after more than 50,000 kilometers. \u00a0 On a steep descent my front tire suddenly exploded and I went flying on to the pavement. \u00a0Luckily nothing more than a nasty scrape and some aching muscles. \u00a0Our panniers are now only semi-waterproof and the bikes have developed lots of annoying squeaks and rattles. \u00a0From our current location in Split, Croatia there are just 1,307 kilometers to go till we reach Obernai. \u00a0We're feeling worn out and\u00a0weary and\u00a0can't wait to spend a few weeks resting and recuperating before we embark on the next stretch of road: \u00a0the Americas await!<\/p><\/div>\n

\"A\"\"<\/p>\n

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