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.
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.
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