Surprise visit

Dense ground fog lies over the square. Everything is damp. It drizzled all night. It is only with reluctance that I sink into the chair next to our tent and start writing on this cold and wet morning. I tap the keys with ice-cold fingers. Although I’m wearing long underpants, Fjällräven trousers and the waterproof overtrousers over them, an undershirt, two fleece jackets and a hat, I’m freezing like hell. This morning I put on my Neoprem overshoes, which are actually designed to keep our shoes dry when cycling, over my Hanwag low shoes to prevent them from getting wet from below and to protect my icicle feet. But I’m still cold. The wind is now blowing over me at around 12° C and I don’t know how I’m going to write when winter comes. Every now and then I lift my stiff bones and shuffle through the wet grass to the toilet. The door opens and a gentleman stands next to me at the pee basin. We do our business in silence as the door opens again. An old man limps in. “How’s Willi?”, the man next to me asks how the visibly shaken old man is doing. “Ooouuuhhhh!” replies the old man. “All right then,” I hear the man next to me as I’m about to leave the toilet again. As Tanja comes out of the tent, the sun flashes through the low-lying clouds from time to time and it doesn’t take long for the rays to gain the upper hand.

It is already dark when we receive a surprise visitor. “Are you on your bikes?” a young man asks us in perfect English. After a brief introduction, we are immediately engrossed in a very interesting conversation. Niel comes from England with his girlfriend Andrea. They have been riding a tandem for 6 months, are on their way home and come from the Ukraine. “Ukraine?” Tanja and I ask excitedly. Where did you sleep? How was the border crossing? Are the people friendly? What’s the crime rate like?” we bombard Niel with questions. We agree to sit down together later after dinner to share our experiences.

“This is home-distilled spirit from Romania,” explains Niel at an advanced hour and pours a sip into my cup. “Cheers,” he says and I can feel the devil’s stuff burning down my throat like fire. “Hua, terrible swill,” I shudder, to which Niel laughs heartily. “You can get it everywhere there. It costs almost nothing. Romania is a wonderful country, by the way. A country where time stood still a hundred years ago. There are horse-drawn carriages everywhere. We really enjoyed it and would go there again any time. You just have to watch out for the Sinti. They didn’t steal from us, but we were constantly warned. They really are very poor people. Would you like another one?” he asks and pours me another sip of the firewater. Tanja retired to the tent an hour ago. Although Andrea and Niel have to be in England in a few weeks because of a wedding and want to leave tomorrow, they are very relaxed despite the late hour. “Well, if you want to go from Romania to Ukraine, it will be difficult or even impossible. You have to go through Moldova and there is no visa. You would need a personal invitation and we couldn’t get one. That was the reason why we had to take the ferry from Odecca to Istanbul. Would you like another sip?” he interrupts his explanation. Although the horrible swill tasted quite disgusting at first, I’m slowly starting to like it. “Don’t want to drink it all away,” I reply, giggling. “No problem. You can buy the stuff here too. So, let’s talk about Moldova again. You don’t necessarily have to go to the Black More, do you? There’s a passage over the Carpathians. From Slovakia. You’d have to go back, though.” “No, we don’t want to go back at the moment. I find this route through Romania quite attractive. Is there another ferry connection to Odecca?” I want to know. “Yes from Varna. It’s in Bulgaria. You can embark there too.” “What about visas? Do we need one for Romania and Bulgaria?” “No, with our European passport we can enter there without any problems. We didn’t even need visas for Ukraine. However, the newly elected government has just been shaky again. Who knows what it will look like when you get there. You know that everything can change quickly in these countries.” Niel and Andrea are an important and fantastic source of information for us. When do you meet cyclists coming from a similar direction? For us, they are definitely the first long-term bike travelers with experience and a positive attitude. We talk late into the night. Then I find my tent entrance, slightly groggy from the Romanian swill, and fall into a deep sleep.

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