Grumpy Old Men On Bikes

My back gets a little better every day and today I thought I might make it all the way to the beer/wine section of the supermarket.  Guess what.....Sunday.  Are we the only country in Europe with enough of a work ethic to open shops 7 days a week....or to be more exact - on BOTH the days that most people want to shop? It took me some time to realise the shops were shut due to a phenomenon I first observed in Croatia.  Shops give no clue that they are open.  The windows are tinted or otherwise blacked out, there are no lights, welcoming open doors or any other clue that the establishment is not derelict (or maybe a sex shop).  I continue to be a bit underwhelmed by Hungary.  The road surfaces are poor and a couple of the 'cycle paths' would have been tricky in a Land Rover.  Someone needs to explain that putting a few signs up across a farmer's field does not make it a cycle route!  Furthermore, for a Danube route, I have seen precious little of the river, though I am finall

Yes, I am in Hungary....in Gyor which, it turns is on the Road From Damascus.  About 15 miles out of town I encountered refugees in large numbers walking on the cycle path.  They were about 3 abreast and it took me half an hour to pass them. I don't really do politics on this blog and I know the refugee crisis is complex and serious.  I also don't profess to understand the issues but would like to offer two observations from my little encounter with the biggest new story of the day: 1/ Though there were women and children, the overwhelming majority of the walkers were young men.  In fact they were exactly the sort of men who, in other countries faced with war, pick up a gun and fight for whatever seems right.  2/ Since when does having had a tough time allow people to trash a country that has taken them in.  The Hungarians may not have offered the warmest of welcomes but the rubbish (and human faeces) dumped at the side of their roads is a disgrace! Hmm...back to the normal bol

It means nothing to me!  As the songs get harder and harder to find I may just stick with this new strategy of only riding to places with songs.  Yup, today I rode through Vienna and while it wasn't bad i sort of see what Midge was getting at. Some more songs: Jailbreak Last night I stayed in the Orange Wings motel in Krems.  They aren't fooling anyone - as you can clearly see from the photo it was a prison and my cell was on landing 2 of B Wing.  Knuckles McGovern who runs the snout racket was in the cell next to me and I thought he was going to give me a hard time untill I  suggested we go over to C Wing and kick the crap out of the nonces. Thunder Road It hasn't been el scorchio for several days now but the rain which is always forecast for 2 days ahead never materialises.  Yesterday was a close call as it hurled it down for several hours while I was in bed. There was Donner und Blitzen......and possibly prancer and dancer too.  I huddled under my horsehair blanket hopin

I have been on the road for over a week now and, as of yesterday, hadn't had any conversation beyond brief exchanges to procure food and lodging. Today this all changed.  Over breakfast I heard English voices and found two fellow cyclists making their own, more leisurely, way to  Budapest.  We had a good old chin wag, so much so that I was late getting on the road. Then this afternoon I passed an 'old friend'.  Partly because she was young when almost every other rider is old, and partly because she was was very pretty, I had noticed this girl as I passed her each afternoon for the last few days.  Today I slowed alongside and had a chat.  She claims to not really be a cyclist but is riding from Passau to Budapest and back (well over 1000 miles).  She is 23, travelling alone and wild camping on a budget of 5 euros a day.  FIVE.  I am gobsmacked  by her courage and self-belief  but worry for her safety.  Also, after buying beer she will have almost no money left for food!  Wh

This morning my back was somewhat improved and things were looking up....until I had to lift my bike over the lip of a ferry ramp.  TWANG.  Things are now a bit tricky because I can ONLY cycle - walking is more or less impossible and involves standing absolutely straight with buttocks clenched and taking tiny steps.  The worst of it is that I suspect other people just think I really badly need a poo. I have found that the only way to get about on foot is to use my bike as a sort of zimmer frame then, at shops, i just buy whatever is nearest the door.  Tonight for tea I am having flowers and charcoal 😢. For my second ferry of the day I arrived on a large square wooden jetty, bought my ticket and stood around with a dozen or so other cyclists waiting for the boat.  It seemed a bit odd that there was no boat in sight then, disconcertingly, the whole jetty set sail across the river. I rode 82 miles today and am staying in Mauthausen, 'famous' as the centre for a huge network of co

Ring My Bell On Sunday night I stayed in the lovely little village of Neustadt Am Der Donau.  Lovely, that is, apart from the sodding  bells. The church bells were getting a right thrashing all evening - yes it was Sunday but who says that Christians are allowed to make antisocial noise when most of us are trying to drink? I went to bed early as always then discovered the town  clock.  It announces the quarter hours with one, two or three colossal clangs then on the hour it goes mental - counting out the time then playing a little song.  The CIA in Guantánamo Bay could learn a trick here.  After a night of being woken every 15 minutes I would have confessed to anything to make it stop. At some time approaching dawn I started to tune out the clock chimes and snatched some sleep but then, at 6am, the bloody Christians launched an all-out assault with the church bells.  I got up. Winter Wonderland On Monday night I decided that I had to get a decent kip so splashed out on a more up-market