On the ferry

Now that the recordings of our last experiences are in the can, we are looking forward to the Danube Delta. We roll along the Tulcea promenade on our bikes and look for the ferry. Tanja has organized everything over the last few days and has even spoken to an officer on the ferry. We are allowed to load our belongings before the masses arrive. “There she is,” Tanja points to an old ship. We make our way through people, cars, buses and vans. There is no place to park our bikes. The hustle and bustle is perfect. Just don’t let things get hectic. A waiting group of people kindly gives us a little space. We lean the bikes against a piece of steel railing. “I’ll go and find the man from the crew,” says Tanja and disappears into the crowd. In the meantime, I keep a close eye on our equipment. Passengers arrive and admire the bikes with restraint. Children point to it. Their fathers forbid them to examine them with their fingers. Tanja finally comes back. “This gentleman will help us get everything on board,” she says and introduces me to the ferry’s friendly, English-speaking letter carrier. While Tanja stays behind as guard, I drag my bike down the steep stairs with the letter carrier. With a groan, we heave the vehicle with all its bags over corridors and steps. Then we work our way through another boat, which is in front of ours. When we are on the Banat (that’s the name of the boat), the letter carrier says, puffing loudly: “We’ll put the bikes on the foredeck. That’s the only place.” Now we have to squeeze my tortured steed past steel winches. The Ortlieb bags and their contents seem to groan until we finally have the riese und müller on the foredeck. I put it on the ship’s bell next to an endless amount of other stuff that is already loaded there. Because the ferry is the only connection to the villages in the delta and to the estuary town of Sulina, it is loaded to bursting point with everything the people there need to live. To pick up the trailers and Tanja’s bike we now have to leave my bike and all the bags unattended. I look around at the men waiting here, who are also looking after their belongings, and can only pray that there is no thief among them. We quickly rush back to Tanja and fetch the trailers, which in turn get a corner in a narrow corridor. In the meantime, Tanja pulls her bike onto the foredeck. Relieved, we sit in front of our still complete property. “Phew, that was hard work,” I blow out a sigh of relief.

The Panat departs on time. After following the Danube from Germany to here, we are looking forward to seeing the place where it joins the Black Sea. We follow one of the three wide estuary arms, which in this case has been developed as a canal and partially straightened. Here, too, people have left their mark on nature. Small motorboats roar past, fishing boats are moored in large numbers on the shore, children jump from the jetties into the cool water and many people pursue the Romanian national sport of fishing.

We enjoy the ride on the airy foredeck while the crowds are inside or on the upper deck of the Banat. After almost four hours we dock on the shore of the 600-soul village of Crisan. From here we want to make a few excursions into the widely ramified delta to experience birds and nature. We look for one of the many small private guesthouses and round off the day.

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