For most of the day I rode along a horrible main road, with very little shoulder and cars and lorries whizzing past. It took concentration not to fall off the tarmac into the ditch and not to ride into the path of oncoming traffic either – so I didn’t see much. I’d steal an occasional glance at the blues and greens of hazy mountains on the horizon. It remained unrelentingly hot, so I hid in a café again for the middle of the day.
When I got going again I had an episode of road rage. I was on a bend and had got off Ro, and was standing in the ditch, pulling the bicycle as close to me as I could. However, there was a coach coming the other direction, which made it harder for traffic to pass comfortably on my side of the road. An estate car towing a huge rubber dinghy on a trailer parped its horn because it had to wait all of 30 seconds for the coach to go past. I saw the woman glare at me through the shut window and I lost the plot. I knew exactly how those dogs feel when they bark furiously in the car with the window closed. I yelled “WHAT? Where do you want me to go? Show me another way and I’ll take it you…“ and a few choice expletives followed. I amost felt my blood pressure go down and felt enormously better for letting off steam. It felt ridiculously good – and the car moved on.
I hope I’m getting acclimatised to the heat before the Balkans – and Greece.
I was surprised to hit the Croatian border just after Jalnise. It was huge – a proper border crossing with barriers and a no man’s land inbetween and passports checked. So different from some of the borders I’ve crossed up till now which have been a shoo through. A policeman at the Croatian booth asked me where I was going. I should have said “Krk” but instead I said “Australia”. That’ll take a while he replied, as he handed my passport back to me.
There were immediately lots of places to camp – meadows just off the road and no huge insurmountable barrier for a bicycle. I pitched my tent in the dark, just past a small village called Klana, down a slope from the road, so the headlights from passing cars wouldn’t light the tent up.
When I got going again I had an episode of road rage. I was on a bend and had got off Ro, and was standing in the ditch, pulling the bicycle as close to me as I could. However, there was a coach coming the other direction, which made it harder for traffic to pass comfortably on my side of the road. An estate car towing a huge rubber dinghy on a trailer parped its horn because it had to wait all of 30 seconds for the coach to go past. I saw the woman glare at me through the shut window and I lost the plot. I knew exactly how those dogs feel when they bark furiously in the car with the window closed. I yelled “WHAT? Where do you want me to go? Show me another way and I’ll take it you…“ and a few choice expletives followed. I amost felt my blood pressure go down and felt enormously better for letting off steam. It felt ridiculously good – and the car moved on.
I hope I’m getting acclimatised to the heat before the Balkans – and Greece.
I was surprised to hit the Croatian border just after Jalnise. It was huge – a proper border crossing with barriers and a no man’s land inbetween and passports checked. So different from some of the borders I’ve crossed up till now which have been a shoo through. A policeman at the Croatian booth asked me where I was going. I should have said “Krk” but instead I said “Australia”. That’ll take a while he replied, as he handed my passport back to me.
There were immediately lots of places to camp – meadows just off the road and no huge insurmountable barrier for a bicycle. I pitched my tent in the dark, just past a small village called Klana, down a slope from the road, so the headlights from passing cars wouldn’t light the tent up.
RSS Feed
