North from Novi Sad to Hungary. At the first border crossing we were denied. “This is a small border, for Europeans, you have to go to the big border”. Since we are no longer part of the EU we can only leave Serbia at major crossing points. Thank you Brexit. Leaving the pleasant, quiet country roads, we slogged up the motorway for over an hour. Spent the next hour baking in the sun while standing in line. Got into Hungary with no problems but then we were a long way off the planned route. The afternoon was four hours of motorway tedium.
We arrived by the eastern end of Lake Balaton hot, dusty, tired and in need of a drink. Lake Balaton is the largest freshwater lake in central Europe and an important tourist destination. In particular, Germans like to come here to do “wellness”. I have never completely fathomed what this is about. It involves, amongst other things, getting hot in a spa and wandering around in white bathrobes. We settled in a shady spot just outside to enjoy a glass of cold, white wine before we did anything else. Two elderly, somewhat overweight men, clad in just speedos, came and started playing table tennis right next to us. I could only guess what nationality they were. We moved round the corner.
Next day was a leisurely ride alongside the lake. Balaton is 170 km long so this is not a trivial ride but it was lovely to relax a bit after the full-on slog of the previous day. Another warm and sunny day gave the place a holiday feel. Cycling is exceedingly popular here. There are dedicated cycle trails right the way around the lake. We took it easy and stopped for several coffee breaks along the way. Our hotel at the far western end of the lake was another “wellness” establishment. It also described itself as “superior”. We have since decided to view the words “wellness” and “superior” a hotel description as a warning. There were indeed many superior people doing wellness – but this is no place for bikers.
Leaving the hordes of white towelling clad Germans in the morning we headed for Croatia. Easy, rolling countryside and slightly cooler weather made for a great ride. We only clipped the corner of Croatia before entering Slovenia. Another lovely country of picturesque rural landscapes and quaint villages. We passed north of the fabulously named capital city of Ljubljana. Not sure why but I really like this name. Was very pleased when I finally learned how to pronounce it. Our hotel was perfect. A stark contract to the night before. Unpretentious, small, friendly, cosy and familiar. A traditional wood and stone building with a sense of an old coaching Inn about it. We were served a basic meal of pasta. No overpriced sparkling water, no carefully ironed linen napkins and absolutely no genuflecting. What we did get was delicious food matched perfectly with a bottle of local wine. We could relax here comfortably without feeling we were being judged.
In the morning, we headed for the lovely town of Bled. A pretty place with views across Lake Bled and overlooked by Castle Bled. Unfortunately, it is a tourist magnet. Even this early in the season it was packed with coaches and gangs of tourist sheep being led around by their guides. We kept going. Not even stopping for a mouthful of cremeschnitte (custard slice) that the area is famous for. Past the lake and south into the mountains. Soon we were far from the madding crowds and winding our way up small, steep roads with glimpses of snow. By the evening, we had crossed two excellent mountain passes to arrive at the town of Tolmin. Here we lucked upon one of the best pizzas of the trip.
I had hoped we could ride the Transfăgărășan highway in Romania but we were thwarted. It does not open until July. No matter, we could at least do the Vršič Pass, also known as the Russian Road in Slovenia. The day dawned bright and clear. We got an early start but it was not to be. No idea why the road was closed. Checking the internet revealed nothing. But there it was. A great big red circle sign erected in the middle of the road. It was was definitely closed. We turned left and went to Italy. This proved to be quite fun. Another, less famous, pass but interesting none the less. Great views. From there we crossed into Austria and a terrific biker hotel in the foothills. Suddenly we were in a different sort of world. Everyone at this hotel was a biker. Everyone had an adventure bike. We were made to feel very welcome. Bikes all went in a secure shed. We sat outside with the others and talked about bike things while dining, Austrian style, on dumplings. Next day we would tackle Austria’s highest mountain pass – the Großglockner-Hochalpenstraße.
