The man of the house made me breakfast, apologising that his wife was away. He shouldn’t have. After stuffing myself with varieties of breads, cheeses, meats and coffee, as I left he handed me a packed lunch. What a host!
Cycling conditions were perfect – sun blazing, a light breeze, birds singing and the road completely to myself. I shall be dining in the Slovak capital by noon!
After 20km or so the cycle path became gravel, and a detour was needed at the village of Stopfenreuth, where a new section is being constructed. The busy main road took me over the Danube via the Hainburg bridge.
Then it was back onto paved, tree-lined cycle path, along which there were many exchanged pleasantries ‘Grüß Gott’ (‘God bless’). Soon enough, the Danube opened in front of me as I made comfortable pace along it’s south bank.
While stopped to admire the view, a heavily-laden tourer pulled-up to chat. Mike is from Dresden and also headed to Budapest. We rode together onwards to Bratislava, arriving by 11am to share some breakfast beers and stories. 7 euro for 4 large beers and 2 Kofolas. Beat that!
I wanted to look around town, so we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up for drinks in Budapest.
Bratislava is a pretty town. There was a food fair in the centre where I munched on a humongous blue cheese burger.
Passers-by came up to talk about the bike and they all wished me luck. There’s a young, friendly vibe. I’ll be back!
I weaved around the hoards of tourists in the historic centre (video to come…) then headed for the river to continue towards Hungary. I now had a decision to make – should I stay on the northern Slovak bank, or the southern Hungarian side.
Both routes have their pros and cons – principally a choice between unpaved surface or more hills. Unable to decide, I flipped a coin which directed me towards Gyor in Hungary. So, no more hills, thankfully.
The track out of Bratislava is also built on top of a dyke, and the headwind had picked-up again. One unfortunate side effect of this onslaught was a severe case of ‘jogger’s nipple‘.
On I went until I reached a town called – wait for it – Mosonmagyaróvár. This is a typical Hungarian resort town specialising in dentistry, and catering mostly for Austrians and Italians looking for well-being on-the-cheap.
Wild camping in Hungary is illegal and risky. I was passed by at least two forest patrols, who slowed to stare. State-fed paranoia about ‘illegal’ immigration (which is really an anti-Islamic moral panic) has led to these patrols being intensified and bolstered by private security who are hell-bent on catching migrants or, it seems, anyone else they can beat-up.
So I cycled around and found a sign for an official campsite, part of a gargantuan, run-down communist-era thermal hotel. 6 euro to pitch my tent, with free use of the spa. I had to indulge.
The place is so huge that I got lost looking for the pool. When I eventually found it, there were seven to choose from, of varying temperatures and populations of pot-bellied guests. I spent 20 minutes soaking in the hot sulphur spring and went for dinner in town. My nipples felt much better 😛
No idea how far I cycled today, but it’s easily pushing 100 km. Tomorrow’s target is Esztergom which is 120 km away. I need to get there to have a reasonable chance of hitting Budapest by lunchtime Saturday.
No problem! 😉