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Published: August 15th 2010
I think what attracts me to these crazy trips is the element of survival. I made it to my sister’s wedding - the mission; now the trick is getting back unscathed. Along the way there are complexities to test those survival instincts. All sounds a bit dramatic I suppose, but that is how it feels. Today’s complexities have to do with how far to travel and how to deal with money and gas. Today was a trip covering three countries. Heading west out of Bulgaria, into and across Serbia and then into Croatia to its most western part, the city of Zagreb. A lesson in this kind of travel is have more Euros.
Before I left home and I was sifting through my large bag of foreign currency and coins (don’t ask me why we keep such things; I guess we just cant throw away money, even pennies) I came across 150 euros. A princely sum that has served me well, but now is running low. In a moment of panic resulting from having too few Euros, I am now the proud owner of 10,000 Serbian dinars (US $100), which according to my Croatian hotel receptionist here in Zagreb are useless. Must be an opinion reflecting a hang over of the fighting, since Wikipedia seems to think they have value.
I thought about the disintegration of Yugoslavia quite a bit as I rode through Serbia and then Croatia. Seemed distant from the sleepy villages I passed in both countries.
In 1977 while a graduate student, my friend Steve and I were in Dubrovnik backpacking with rail passes. As we got up to leave one morning flags and flowers were being displayed everywhere. Apparently Tito was coming to town. The former freedom fighter and at that time worshiped leader of the country. I remember a discussion where it was stated that when Tito dies everything will degenerate. My only experience with Serbs and Croats up to that point were the respective immigrant soccer teams playing back in my home town of Adelaide, Australia. Seeing their matches made me understand that indeed all hell might break out. And so it did when Tito died in 1980. It is a lot more complicated than this, but lets keep it simple. It is impossible to get a sense from the situation today, but Croatia seems to be doing better than Serbia by my standards. Namely the octane rating available for gas, whether they take credit cards and the availability of ATMs.
It is only a short ride out of Bulgaria from Sofia and I saw the last of the endless stream of billboards at the side of the road. I have amused myself endlessly in this country trying to imagine what the words in support of the pictures might say. Is a scantily clad woman in a man’s jacket advertizing jackets or is it something more sinister? In this language there is just no telling. There also seems to be an unnatural number of billboards for bathroom fixtures, perhaps a statement of rising economic wellbeing?
After entering Serbia the Balkan Mountains offer sharp relief and a number of tunnels. Tunnels are quite scary and I can’t decide whether this is normal, my age or my new glasses with the variable lenses. When you enter a tunnel here you seem to suddenly be almost blind, perhaps the lighting is poor too. Anyway many reasons to be cautious.
The road was pretty slow at this point, including the obligatory rock fall and thus the nagging question that dominates this type of travel. How far should I try and go today? Sofia to Zagreb is almost 800km whereas Sofia to Belgrade is about 450km. Stopping at Belgrade makes for a short day but with perhaps too much distance remaining to make it to the plane on time Tuesday. On the other hand travelling 800km would be my longest day with what appears to be little in between should I need to stop in an area that does not take credit cards and with little useful cash. In the end the road and my second wind won out as the road from Nis all the way to Zagreb was a fast toll road and I just motored on average about 120km/hr. Lots of fertile farmland with corn in abundance, but not much else worth noting.
Crossing from Serbia to Croatia was slow but uneventful. I have decided if I was ever to become a drug smuggler I would do it by motorcycle; limited quantities but safe. A casual wave of the customs officials hand as if to say don’t bother me you crazy Englishman (I have been using my UK passport throughout) and I was through any checkpoint.
Passed through the outskirts of Belgrade. One of the first sites of the city was a massive twin tower. A former soviet housing complex no doubt. Reminded me fondly of my days in Sheffield, UK where the first thing you saw upon entering the city from the M1 motorway were the Hyde Park flats. The English equivalent low cost housing built for the masses in the 60’s and loathed by all ever since for reasons of more than just having to live in them. Since the area is fondly referred to as the People’s Republic of South Yorkshire in deference to its political leanings, the analogy runs even deeper.
I was damned tired by the time I reached the hotel (picked randomly from the GPS) in Zagreb, but felt in the two days remaining I could take in the sights a bit more with only 400 km to cover each day. Met a nice German couple at dinner. He worked for IBM in Germany and always wanted to go to the world headquarters in Armonk NY. The town I lived in for a year or so in the early eighties. It is a small world.
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Fletch
non-member comment
Smuggling
Every time I have taken my bike to the continent from the UK on return, I have been waved into that little shed you don't want to get waved into and my bike virtually taken to bits and my old socks examined forensically . I am certain therefore that your plan for a second career is totally flawed.