The Black Sea

Wow: updating the map makes us look really close to Istanbul. Bulgaria so far has been a pleasure; the weather has improved, road surfaces are good and rooms are cheap enough that we haven't needed to camp in a while. All the trappings of eastern Europe are still here- litter, feral dogs, vivid domestic animal roadkill and potholes you could get lost in, but it seems somehow easier to deal with... maybe we're just aclimatising.

We have had to cope with a few hills, but that was expected as we deviated from the Danube and took the shortcut to Varna, which is a cracking place. The road out of Varna was an uncomfortable experience; who knew the rural coast road was the longest redlight district in Europe? We're guessing, not being experts. We have also found ourselves to be local celebrities after doing a roadside interview for BTV news about our trip. An incredible two people have now recognised us! Hopefully this is the correct link so you can see the interview online: http://www.btv.bg/videos/?video_id=21306&section_id=1.

We are presently about halfway down the Bulgarian Black Sea coast at Nesebar, right next door to Sunny Beach, hub of Bulgaria's less attractive tourist infrastructure. The sandy beaches are gorgeous, but it's equally amazing to drift through overdeveloped resort towns that are all but dead this side of the season. If this were the UK in the temperatures we've had, the beaches would be crammed with bodies; we've got the place to ourselves.

Through the Iron Gates: the edge of Europe

Our entry and exit into and out of Romania have been the least official of all border crossings so far. In no-man's land between Serbia and Romania, we witnessed much trading of dubious goods from the car boots of Yugos and Dacias. On the way out of Romania border officials joked about charging us a Euro to pass. Only a cursory glance at our passports at either end.

Romania is part of the EU, at times this was difficult to believe but the Romainan chapter is more memorable for the experience. The first 48 hours were filled with hilly cycling and spectacular views of the Danube passing between steep cliffs - the foothills of the Carpathians on one side and the Balkans on the other - in the Portile de Fier (Iron Gates) national park. Hot, hot, hot and cheap, cheap, cheap. That seems like a very long time ago.

Beyond the Iron Gates, we had the feeling that we were in a different country. Rapidly the landscape flattened out, and our slow road east took us through one rural village after another. Roads were sometimes unsurfaced, usually pot-holed; livestock was in abundance on the main road including geese, turkeys, chickens, cows, dogs, pigs; some of the sights included gaggles of toothless old ladies in head scarves, cardies, long skirts, wooly tights and wellies who waved to us cheering 'Drum Bun'; and horse-drawn carts almost outnumbered cars for five days. During this time accommodation was sparse to say the least. We resorted to a mixture of dubious camping and over-priced hotels (we were thankful they existed).

Despite this, we still found ourselves stuck in Bechet in the pouring rain at dusk after riding nearly 100km (where the state hotel shown on the map had long since closed down). Here, we were rescued by a shopkeeper who gave us cans of beer. He phoned his mate, Marian who was exceptionally kind to us. He took us to his home where we had a dry place to sleep and where he and his wife shared their evening meal with us. Once again we have learnt a lot about hospitality from people in strikingly more humble circumstances. We hope that we will do the same for others in future, maybe we would not have been so ready to before this trip.

Romania was a bit of a trial, not least the last couple of days when the weather turned from hot and sunny to bitterly cold, wet and windy, compelling us to bring out all our cold and wet weather gear. Our last day in the country was marked by having to cycle 156kms in search of a bed, luckily the wind was behind us.

Arriving in Bulgaria felt like emerging from a strange bubble. There are other tourists here, we have internet access, a choice of places to stay here in Ruse (Rousse), and a chance to take a day's rest. It is still raining. It is still really cold.

Serbia: highs and lows, but mostly flat

Bike issues resolved and hangovers fading, we covered the distance from the border town of Backa Palanka to Novi Sad, host of the Exit festival and holder of prestigious title 'Norwich's twin town'. Serbia must be lauded for making a big effort to signpost the Danube cycle route, but it still needs to grasp the idea that a cycle path needs to be cyclable. Approaching the city we were joined by Sam, a French cyclotouriste (the first we'd seen since Budapest) on a much more suitable mountain bike, who was on a 10000km tour of Europe.

Novi Sad was an enjoyable place to visit with a grand Vauban fortress and a decent central square, unfortunately we took it in turns to succumb to mystery bugs and had to stay 5 whole days. Luke will remember with some clarity a day spent at the mercy of the Serbian health system being hooked up to successive drips. Apparently this is the first course of action for all patients in Serbia, but he can report on the treatment's efficacy. Soph will remember with clarity the mystery bureaucracy and charges associated, as well as the anxiety caused by being told her husband had a 43 degree temperature (the doctor added that she shouldn't worry as he was a very nice man, strong, and that she was very lucky to have him!). Throughout the ordeal, we were looked after in an exemplary fashion by Miki and his team at the hostel Sova - recommended.

Out of Novi Sad, we passed the 3000km mark, avoided Belgrade, sampled a Serbian communist era hotel, an excellent homestay with Olga and her breakfast burek and rakija; and an out of season campsite where Goran refused to charge us, but also refused to clean the squat toilets or control his dogs.

Serbia was a pretty good experience overall with friendly people (amazing considering we bombed the hell out of them in recent memory), reasonable road surfaces, hot sunny weather and brilliant TV, including three channels of relentless Balkan folk music and dancing. Landscapes were grand but we found it hard to stomach the amount of litter and fly-tipping which was sadly everywhere.