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GRAHAM FIELD
The coin deposit I had paid the entire ATM would give me, and a handwritten receipt everything I had received. Then, once in the UK, I move coins to my new Bulgarian bank account and get on the motorcycle to return to the easternmost member of the European Union. My project is to turn the deposit into an acquisition and receive it into an official ownership document before anything changes; prices, exchange rates or regulations.
The ferry docks in Holland and, having no time to rate my phone, I am restless on the ramp. Okay, I wrote the key cities and I stop on a piece of paper and put it in the tank bag.
It’s Friday night’s rush hour around Rotterdam, but the traffic is quiet and within 3 hours I’m in Germany and I sit at my comfortable cruising speed of 80 mph, well, I think it was 80 mph, but my phone says it’s 74 mph. I was less illegal than I thought. I don’t know what I think of that.
It’s the best summer night and I don’t know where I’m going to spend the afternoon. The liberation of this feeling leads me into the darkness of summer. West of Kassel, I pass a wind farm in an old-fashioned wheat box. I stop in a parking lot, walk into the box and find a small path, run to the bike, climb the sidewalk, pass the picnic tables and walk through a runway that sneaks between the giant turbines. The trail ends and overlooks the boxes and a village under the valley. Turning off the ignition, I’m shrouded in darkness and silence. It’s for the best. I extend my sleeping bag and lie on it. A rabbit arrives, blind, brave or just friendly. The blades turn, the wheat bends and I look at the quiet, bright village. The nomad in me loves him.
I sleep in an emergency sleep and I don’t have any fancy extras. When it’s time to urinate, I touch anything but me: a bullet is inside my belt. It wakes me up more than I’d like. However, it is a loose night, a position to spend the dark hours. Now there is gentleness in heaven and a new day to rise. When a service domain appears, it turns out to be an opportunity to fill the tank and transparent discomfort. Full tank, full belly, empty bladder, fully charged. Everything is at desirable levels.
As soon as I start, everyone stops. Traffic slows down and Drivers of Saturday morning excitement walk down the road with their legs outstretched, regardless of the awareness of a moving vehicle. In this case, a gigantic Austrian-made orange motorcycle driven through a moving, sleep-deprived British, which has the filtering functions of a lawn shed due to its too wide bags. To his advantage, he said Brit is incredibly cautious. This, combined with your intrusive escape note, means that no knee is dented through external bumps or mirrors removed by error of judgment and, if words of hostility or disapproval are uttered, are not known.
With my face and motionless, I face the open mouth of a closed tunnel. With the motorcycle on its center crutch, I take out my diary, but before it’s too far away, the barrier rises and starts the onslaught of all outraged Audi drivers who compensate for downtime while driving at a faster speed. than any British law allows it.
As I head east and see symptoms of Leipzig and Dresden, the sun shines. Nothing is strange and loneliness is not even a consideration. It’s a world away from what I felt on those roads two years ago heading for Iraq. I have friends in the Czech Republic who enter my mind when I cross the border, however, it is a trip oriented to the destination, not a social satisfied, so after others avoid rehydrating my frame and my tank, I pass Prague to a sign because Brno says I am on the right path. Fabulous. I don’t want it to be a permanent power race, but I appreciate it. It’s not my own taste at all and it’s exciting to push the limits of my staying power. I’m just betting hard. I can keep him from wanting to.
In Slovakia and I will be in the other aspect in an hour. I don’t avoid it even though Bratislava is a capital that takes the camera out. I take a look at the castle and the bridges that cross the Danube. “See you in Romania, ” I say under my viewfinder.
In Hungary, leave the highway in Gyar. I need slower night roads. It’s still 33 degrees C and I feel tired and maybe a cold. The little extra: a shop in the village to inventory healthy foods: avocado, cheese, tomatoes and perfectly ripe bread; The road warrior clip.
One more stop of fuel, and then over time that a solo traveler needs to share, a sign appears indicating that there is a camp. It’s deserted Closed. With the stealthy and instant reaction of a lone biker, I pass the door: empty play areas and closed sanitary blocks. Turns out it’s available, but it’s abandoned. Damn, I’m still staying. I make an awesome sandwich and prepare my shop which turns into a tank top. I turn it to face the afternoon breeze. It doesn’t help, so I lie in my sleeping bag and sleep for a moment at night for free. Wild camping in a campsite, it’s naughty.
At 5 a.m., I see pink clouds on the open lapel of the store. I’m late, I’d go up to this sky than see it
In Baja, I cross the Danube, so I’ll see you again. We use oblique routes to the border. This river has selected very picturesque places to cross, or perhaps paints the image in passing. I head east to Romania as the sun passes clouds like rain. The days of the computer and workplace seem distant, my wifi removal is manageable and the launch fills the void.
It’s a new best non-public: 285 miles and five-and-a-half hours on horseback before breaking my fast that is now brunch, in a restaurant on the side of the road, and I’m back on the road foggy on Sunday afternoon, the sun shines the sun spray to reveal a mountainous horizon, and this never fails to cause a chill.
The rain becomes a memory. It’s 35 degrees C and I wonder if the contents of my bag were stolen while I stopped, the motorcycle is soft and responsive. On a winding road on a mountain, the motorcycle turns around corners and tires hold the road with reverence, but I still miss the lines as if you were partying with rock stars.
I meet the Danube again. On the contrary, Serbia and the river at its incredible top scenery to date. Sailing is as undeniable as following the path that follows the river that divides countries. It has a variety and length that cuts cliffs, forms gorges, builds dams, creates lakes and generates turbines.
At 3 p.m., the temperature reaches 39 degrees Celsius. There are retirement banks. Old men with big bellies and no unique features sit in the shade, younger men leave bars and run to grow their stomachs. But they’re still agitated, well, not always. A wave, I actually had waves, not completely masked. God, I’m hot … I think I’m delirious … shows a passport, on the bridge, goodbye to the Danube, hello Bulgaria, the time of whooping cough of a serious helmet. the heat, I need a shower more than I need a beer … roads are bad, traffic is scarce, brutal Soviet architecture is as difficult to perceive as the Cyrillic alphabet. I’m so lenient, in love with everything … for a long time as it lasts.
I think getting started is happening. I prevent in a guest space in the village where I have to call home.
A 11-hour driving day, 635 miles, the KTM worked perfectly. It would probably be too tall and heavy, but it has made Europe smaller. The doors opened for me, more incredulous than welcome.
“Did you do it in hours?”
“Well, ferry, yes.
“Did you drive in a 40-degree heat?”
By coincidence the man I’m buying the house off happens to be here. Any doubts he had of how serious I was have left with my arrival. We have an appointment with the notary at 9am on Tuesday. I could have taken a day longer to do the trip, but how much fun would that have been? I don’t want to make a habit out of this high-speed commute, but equally it was an exhilarating journey.
FACTFILE
Near Varna, Graham Field’s newest e-book on resettlement in Bulgaria, is on his online page www.grahamfield.co.uk and Amazon.
Three cheap airlines fly from the UK to 3 urban destinations in Bulgaria: Sofia, the capital, Varna, on the Black Sea coast, and Plovdiv, a city of ancient ruins and gateway to the Rodope Mountains.
“www.ryanair.com/gb/en
“wizzair.com/en-gb#/
“www.easyjet.com/en
Bansko is a popular ski destination and the seven lakes of Rila are popular all year round with hikers, the jewel of the Bulgarian crown.
Art Hotel Simona is an original position in the capital https://www.tripadvisor.com/LocationPhotoDirectLink-g294452-d3170827-i218265421-Art_Hotel_Simona-Sofia_Sofia_Region.html
In central Bulgaria, Motocamp is a magnet for travelers http://motosapiens.org/motocamp/
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