Good sleep last
night, floor-length door wide open to the lake, distant bursts of lightning in the distant sky,
swirling wind patterns buffeted our door, but lots of cool fresh air.
Tron has a lovely snore pattern, almost melodic, but insists that I
didn`t really make much of a sound last night – liar! (but a real nice guy).
Woke up
about 5:35am, but dozed until Tron`s alarm went off at 6am. Last night`s storm ripped my swim suit off
the bedroom railing, but in the morning I went down to the deck again and found
that somebody had picked it up and put in on a small table. And nearly dry, too! Great!
Bags down to
the lobby by 6:45am, rider meeting suggests that our route is only 107km – 20km
shorter than the original itinerary – so we`re so sad that there`s not a dry eye
in the house. Boo-hoo. Nice buffet breakfast, had a table out on the deck
with Ed & Eric & John (USA) knocking back enough calories to put us out
on the road in style. Very nice `cream
of wheat` porridge but terrible interpretation of potato pancakes.
Apparently
my bicycle has an instinct that draws it towards Croatia. Being in Croatia is not necessarily a bad
thing because Croatia is in the European Economic Community, but the problem is that it`s not on our
projected route. While doing a lovely
downhill glide, weaving S-turns through a large town at 49km, I miss a
right-hand turn with the road towards Besco.
Garmin suggests that my current highway was heading towards an
international border (viz. Croatia) so I turn around and pedal uphill into the
wind to rejoin the TDA flagged route.
Found the flagged turn, but just a few kilometres further on I`m overtaken by a van hauling a
trailer, who then slams on his brakes and makes a right-hand turn, I swerve
left to avoid him and then check my instructions again – wasn`t that where I
was supposed to make a right-hand turn?
Why does Garmin say that my current road is heading towards
Croatia? However, as I turn around and
am heading back up the road to check things out, Peter & Killian McCartney come
screaming down the hill past me, ask me if I’ve got a problem, so I just tag
along and follow them southwest. A few
kilometres later all three of us realise that we’re off the grid, and Peter
suggests we cut cross-country to join up with Road #7405. Okay, because he’s the Garmin expert.
Our first road northwest is well travelled,
with nice men in green vests leading us towards a demonstration of heavy
agricultural equipment – tractors and the like - and a large parking lot for the viewers.
Nice idea, but not our priority right now. So, we
turn around, wave to the nice men in the green vests, and head up a smaller paved road, that turns
to a smaller paved road, that leads to a gravel road, that turns into a dirt road alongside a reservoir, that
turns into a mud road that was apparently used by some of the tractors going to
the “ag show”. The three of us dismount and push our
bikes uphill through the slop, then along a valley trail, then up through a
farm yard (nobody lives there anymore but the plums are ripe and taste great), then onto a gravel track with no inhabitants but the four-wheeled vehicles parked alongside are
registered in the current year, so Yahoo! we’ve obviously found
civilisation again!
Down and through the
forests of western Hungary, we merge with a paved road that resembles details on the 65.3km
instruction on our TDA itinerary, so I’m only 9km off the recommended schedule. Since we’ve missed the TDA lunch van, this
calls for a short stop at Porszombat for Cokes, chips, and ice cream – quality sources
of sugar for cyclists - with a barmaid that obviously got left behind when her generation left this town and headed for the Big Smoke.
We located that first orange TDA flagging tape at the 73.5km left-hand turn (82.5km on my Garmin) and it does provide a certain amount of relief, but I wonder why my bicycle kept wanting me to take me to Croatia. Sure, it was only about 20km away, but… focus bike … focus ...
We located that first orange TDA flagging tape at the 73.5km left-hand turn (82.5km on my Garmin) and it does provide a certain amount of relief, but I wonder why my bicycle kept wanting me to take me to Croatia. Sure, it was only about 20km away, but… focus bike … focus ...
Slovenia is
another international border crossing and another bureaucratic infliction of
red tape what with the Customs Inspectors, the Immigration Authorities, show your passports, obtain another foreign currency, etc. Oops! Forgot. We're still in the EEC. Well, there is a sign that says "Slovejia". And a photo opportunity with Peter and Killian. None of the other usual concerns apply,
because this is the EEC, after all.
Minus Britain, of course, whose exit date is yet to
be determined.
"Camp Terme" is a resort complex that was built
over a pool of black & warm mineral water bubbling to the surface at a temperature
of just over 40C. Chalets, hotels, RV
sites, campgrounds, and thousands of people enjoying the big warm wet. A couple of dozen cyclists won’t even be
noticed. I head up to the supermarket and liberate some alcoholic libations; a can of beer for Wayne("Because you're you"), a can of beer for Killian (Peter doesn't drink, so it's a cheap round), and two for me.
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