In the morning the cows came down to the lake. A lovely pastoral scene to contemplate over breakfast and the cows found it very refreshing. I did wonder a little about how suitable the lake was for the people swimming there the previous evening.
Back on the bike, we headed north-west towards a Greek national park. The sat nav took us on a wicked short cut through the town of Stavroupoli. It does this occasionally. Instead of the sensible route around a town, it will calculate a slightly faster route through some back roads. This particular one took us up a steep hill on pavement. Vehicles were allowed but it was very narrow. We needed to dodge people, children and dogs on the cobbled, twisty route while working quite hard just to keep the bike upright. We prevailed and emerged intact onto a lovely road that wound though the hills and forests to the city of Drama. From here we went north over some mountains towards the ski town of Volakas. Initially the route was very promising. We descended into a deep valley filled by a lake. After crossing the bridge, the road became substantially smaller and we needed to be careful of the rocks strewn across the tarmac. Eventually the road became a track and then a muddy path. We are not equipped for muddy paths. Especially in a remote area of a Greek national park with nobody around for miles. So, to avoid further drama, we headed back to Drama. Leaving Drama on the main road to Volakas, it began to rain. Heavy, cold, driving rain that covered the road in sheets of water. At least we were not on a muddy track in the mountains. We arrived at Volakas completely sodden and it continued to rain through much of the night.
The morning was bright and sunny. We had an exceptionally good breakfast and set off for Bulgaria. Now we are back in the EU the borders are a complete anti-climax. In fact, occasionally, you need to be on your toes to spot them at all. This border was marked by a “peace tunnel” that connected the two countries. We continued north and climbed into the next range of mountains. The rain caught us again and the temperature dropped. The road climbed higher and then there was snow. It did not actually snow on us but there was plenty of snow on the hills around us and, in places, on the road. All we could do was press on. Fortunately, the route began to descend and the rain eased. Eventually we arrived at the lovely Batak reservoir and parked up just as the sun came out. We had booked a particularly pleasant hotel. A good meal with lashings of Bulgarian wine made a great way to finish a hard and somewhat uncomfortable day.
Sofia next. A comfortable ride of just a few hours and then the usual fun coping with the city centre traffic. Trams and the rails they used added some further interest. Sofia is the capital of Bulgaria and home to a wealth of museums and churches. We stayed at a wonderful hotel right in the centre of the city. It was a little dated but for a very modest cost we had a massive room and got to park the bike safely inside their courtyard. In the evening, we looked at a few of the museums and churches from the outside and then found an excellent Indian restaurant for dinner.
Going north from Sofia brought us to Montana and a lovely lake. The next day was equally uneventful riding that brought us into Romania and the river Danube just north of Vidin. Late morning I got a message from the hotel we had booked to say that their restaurant was closed because it was a national holiday. We would have to sort our own dinner. Buying it was the first problem. National holiday. Everywhere was closed. Eventually, we chanced on a small village shop where we could buy a few basics. When we arrived at the hotel, we found the whole building was closed. No-one else there at all. The cooking facilities proved to be a single microwave oven. Not much use for the pasta and vegetables we had picked up. Outside was a firepit and this turned out to be our culinary saviour. With a plentiful supply of wood, we soon had a blazing fire on which to cook our food and to sit round while enjoying more Bulgarian wine. In the morning, I revived the fire. We breakfasted on toast with cheese, slightly smoked, and a large pot of coffee.
We rode along the banks of the Danube for the entire day. Past the spectacular Iron Gates. Despite the name, they are neither iron or gates but in fact a deep gorge forming the border between Romania and Serbia. The whole section is over 100 km long and, as we discovered, is quite popular with bikers. Eventually we arrived in Moldova – not the east European country, but a town in Romania. Here it was still a national holiday. Fortunately our host for the night, a remarkably friendly man called Fabio, ordered pizza and sat us down with some of his home-made wine.
Next morning we rode north across a small range of hills and crossed into Serbia. At the border, because we were leaving the EU again, we needed to present passports and vehicle documents. Otherwise, it was painless. We pressed on to Novi Sad. Here we stayed in a glorious old building. Some sort of castle converted into a hotel and perched high on a cliff overlooking the Danube and the town. In Serbia it was not a national holiday. We found a restaurant that was open just next to the hotel. Not only open but serving some terrific food involving roasted peppers, mushrooms, garlic and chilli. There was also wine of course and we got to watch the sunset over the Danube.
