Route

Vidin – Dobri Dol – Lom 56.0 km
Lom – Dobri Gibar – motel 6.5 km outside Oryahovo 72.5 km
Oryahovo – Kneza – Pleven 92.0 km
Pleven – Levski – Pavlikeni – Hotnitsa    100.0 km

Crossing our final border into Bulgaria was quite a moment for us and we couldn’t help but feel a surge of achievement, even though we knew we still had quite a distance to travel. When we told the border guard how far we’d travelled on our bikes, she dubbed us “heroes”, but the look on her face suggested that she really meant “mad people”. The customs officer came out of his office to inspect us and waved us on our way with a smile on his face. As good a welcome as we could have hoped for!

The road to Vidin was quiet and the surfaces were good. We quickly found a good hotel in the centre of Vidin. The only drawback was that there was nowhere safe to leave the bikes so I had to carry them up two flights of stairs to our room, where they spent the night on the verandah. We went for a stroll around town and celebrated our arrival with a couple of shopska salads and cold Zagorkas. We went to make some phone calls and were slightly bemused at how early everywhere seemed to be closing but then remembered that we hadn’t put our watches forward since Serbia.

The next morning we bought the best map of Bulgaria we could find and plotted our route to Hotnitsa, which wasn’t on the map but Veliko Turnovo was. Reassuringly, the cover of the map claimed that it covered “most actually” of Bulgaria, so we set off with some optimism. All the roads we wanted were well signposted and easy to find, so navigation wasn’t as difficult as we’d feared. In fact, we cycled along some pleasant, well-surfaced roads all morning. There were some heavy lorries but not too bad at all. We stopped for lunch in a small motel at Dobri Dol where we had too much shopska salata and bread and so found it difficult to cycle afterwards. The torrential rain in the afternoon didn’t help. We sheltered for a while and wore plastic bags on our heads, following the local fashion, but the rain was clearly set in for the day so we carried on wetly towards Lom.

The road to Lom was in very bad condition and we were dodging potholes all the way. The squalor and poverty in some of the villages we came through was very distressing – particularly evident among the Roma community. This was a salutary reminder to us that the Bulgarian economy has a long way to go before improvements are genuinely tangible across the entire country. And then the rain came – rather a lot of it, in fact, so we sheltered again couple of times but it became obvious that it was in for the day so we decided to go for it and reached Lom in early evening.

Cradled by the river
We found a brand new, very comfortable hotel on the banks of the Danube. The hotel was an old, renovated building with good dimensions and modern fittings. It was very good value, including breakfast, and there was a small room available to store our bikes, although we were asked to transport them through the lobby without wetting the floor! As the weather was so bad, we had cold beers and nuts from the mini bar and dinner (French-fried potatoes, potatoes, peas and more beer) in the hotel dining room watching the rain falling on a misty river.

It was still raining the next morning, so we ate breakfast slowly and spent some time chatting to the receptionist, who was a student in Veliko Turnovo. The rain stopped by mid-morning and we had good weather leaving Lom. This was a steep climb up wet cobblestones. Whoever invented cobblestones obviously wasn’t a cyclist as they’re one of the worst possible surfaces, especially when wet and almost vertical. It took us 2.25 hours to ride 27 very difficult kilometres. We stopped and ate a Twix and drank tea in a garage caf?. From then on the terrain was easier and we made great headway until it started to pour. We stopped to have more tea and shelter from the rain at another garage cafe. There was a fascinating programme in English on the TV about the great train robbers. The garage guy kindly turned up the sound for us and we watched as the rain continued to pour down.

The rain didn’t abate, though, and so we set off again and made good progress despite the rain and headwind and we were 6.5km from Oryahovo when a motel loomed up out of the rain. We were offered a small cottage in the grounds – more romantic apparently – but it just looked underused and damp so we chose a room above reception. There was a good restaurant where we ate grilled kashkaval (yellow cheese) with tomatoes and a lively woman who spoke good English and was teaching herself Greek served us. There was plenty of time for her to chat, as we were the only residents that night, it seemed. Over dinner, we worked out with her help that if all went well, we only had two more days of cycling left – assuming we could manage about 100km on both days.

Nearing the end
No rain on this penultimate day but plenty of drama to come, as we encountered more steep hills into Oryahovo, which made us relieved that we hadn’t tried to tackle them the night before. Our final views of the Danube were spectacular, looking across the river into Romania. We bade farewell and gave her thanks for taking care of us – we’d cycled alongside her for so long and had appreciated her impressive presence all the way. Out of Oryahovo, there was a long downhill and I sped off ahead of Eileen.

When I eventually looked back there was no sign of her, but a car came past flashing its lights with the driver pointing back along the road in her direction. I got back to her as fast as I could, to discover that her back wheel had punctured. I was relieved that it was nothing more serious, as I’d feared she’d had an accident of some kind. We repaired the puncture and set off again.

Once more, I found myself well in front of her and was climbing a short hill when I heard the sound of barking dogs and Eileen screaming. I turned back immediately, terrified that she was being savaged. I’d not noticed any dogs on the road myself; otherwise I would have waited for her, as I know she’s nervous of them. When I got back to her, she was standing behind her bike holding it like a shield in front of her while two snarling dogs stood on the other side of the road.

In the UK, we’d bought a device called a Dazer, which emits a high-pitched signal that only dogs can hear. It’s meant to deter them from chasing or harming cyclists, without doing the dogs any harm. We’d used it to good effect on some dogs in Hungary who had immediately stopped barking and starting writing us notes of abject apology. Therefore, I employed the Dazer on these Bulgarian dogs who seemed only mildly put out by the noise – they’re obviously made of sterner stuff. At any rate, it was enough to deter them while we made our getaway.

It turned out that Eileen had punctured again and when she stopped, the dogs, which were guarding some kind of scrap yard, had started barking at her. This had frightened her – hence her screaming. Needless to say that this experience unnerved her so while I repaired the puncture, she got her breath back. This time, we discovered in the tyre a shard of glass that I’d missed first time around so I decided to try putting in a patched tube rather than a new one.

We stopped to gather our wits at a fly-ridden cafe in Kneza where Snickers and tea boosted us a bit. This was just as well, as Pleven (our destination for the night) was still 50km ahead. We got as far as Iskur, where Eileen had to push up a huge hill. The final straw was her third puncture! Looking back, the road surfaces were so potholed and uneven that the patch had been under so much pressure and it burst. I didn’t know that at the time and spent ages looking in the tyre for more glass at the side of a busy road. We were still at least 35km from Pleven and it was already after 4pm. Eventually, I decided to risk another new tube and hope that it would hold until Pleven.

Meanwhile, it seemed that Eileen had had enough for one day and was trying to hitch a lift for two bikes and us while I fixed the puncture. Needless to say, there were no offers and so we set off again with me riding behind Eileen while I anxiously watching for signs of yet another puncture. But then the gods of cycling decided to shine upon us and we came to a smooth, downhill section of road with a tailwind all the way into Pleven, with no more punctures.

The last night
As this was our final night, we decided to splash out by staying at the best hotel we could find. The receptionist was very friendly and impressed by our achievements – so much so that she gave us a discount on the room. I was to carry the bikes up two flights of stairs, where there was a storeroom in which we could leave the bikes, but a young, fit porter helped me this time. We collapsed in the room for a while (which was on the 10th floor, not ideal for Eileen, who doesn’t like lifts and had to climb 165 stairs), used a nailbrush to get all the oil and muck off ourselves and got dressed in clean clothes ready for the evening – bliss. Then we went for a stroll around Pleven, which was lively and full of visitors. We ended up back in the hotel restaurant where there was a guy playing the keyboards. He was Bulgarian but had spent summer 2005 working on the boats between Norway and Newcastle! It’s a small world. We had our usual concocted meal: one salad between us, followed by cold tomato soup with a side plate of diced cucumbers, egg, peppers and a roll and finally some sort of very spicy croquettes, a vegetable kebab and beer – very good.

Before leaving Pleven, I found a bike shop and had another new tube fitted in Eileen’s bike – just in case. After a 1.5km climb out of Pleven, we made quick work of the 40km or so to the turn-off to Levski, where we bought some fruit and received dire warnings from the stallholder about the robberies we were sure to endure at the hands of the people who lived in Levski. We weren’t robbed but we were slowed down by the terrible road surface.

Eventually we got to Pavlikeni where we were confused about the distance left to Hotnitsa. The map suggested 16km but the road sign said 32 (unfortunately, the road sign turned out to be accurate). However we travelled along some quiet and peaceful lanes, which gave us the chance to appreciate the beauty of the Bulgarian countryside surrounding our village. Rain rumbled around us but maintained a thoughtful distance as we edged closer and closer to Hotnitsa. Eventually, we reached the top of the ridge and looked down at our village glowing in the soft evening sunshine.

Final count
After 2913km, 59 days (cycling on 48), three bikes, four punctures, four sets of brake blocks, numerous campsites and hotels, we’d made it! Some friends were staying in our house and they greeted us with cold Bulgarian wine and a celebratory meal. As we lay in our own bed that night, slightly sozzled and more than a little exhausted, we knew that we’d achieved something extraordinary and that, somehow, our lives would never be the same again.